


Near to you

by Geefunk101



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Alfred - Freeform, Human Names, Ivan - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2018-12-18 18:58:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11880765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geefunk101/pseuds/Geefunk101
Summary: “What, nothing to say?”  The man simply asked in a rolling Slavic accent, far too sweet to be coming out of the almost six foot tall giant.  “Seemed like you had something to say earlier. Did you like the show?”





	1. Chapter one

Alfred Frederick Jones stifled a yawn as he rode the hospitals elevator down to the bottom floor lobby. He rubbed into his neck with strong fingers.

 

Long day...Long week.

 

Seven days straight, and grueling twelve hour shifts almost killed him. His feet and back could attest to to all his hard work.

 

With flu season upon them, the hospital was almost completely full. Five admissions before lunch, so he hadn't really eaten anything since breakfast. As a nurse in training he spent most of his day hovering over the shoulder of other nurses, learning everything he could.

 

But he felt pretty good about himself and despite being tired and hungry he was happy. But boy was he ready for his seven days off.

 

Pulling his phone out from his pocket he saw three missed calls on the display screen.

 

Arthur, a.k.a. Iggy – a.k.a. besty – a.k.a. Ex boyfriend... had been trying to get ahold of him since that morning but he'd been actively avoiding him. Alfred had been busy, but mostly he just didn't want to talk to him. Ever since the 'break up' their relationship was completely strained. No longer were there comfortable silences or innocent inquiries. Everything said now seemed to have an loaded meaning behind it and the usual teasing and razzing between them only started fights. It put a lot of stress on them and their close group of friends.

 

The ding of the industrial sized elevator told him it was time to get off. The door slid open and he entered the lobby, clipping his name tag on his messenger bag.

 

“Can't stop me now...” Alfred sang under his breath, feeling lighter with every step.

 

“Hey Alfred!” Upon hearing his name the blond tore his eyes from the exit sign. He saw Manny and Garcia, the hospital's night Security guard's waving him over as they huddled around the front desk computer. “You need to come watch this!”

 

He made a gesture of apology as he continued walking. “Can't, my cat's expecting me.” Nothing would deter him from leaving and getting something to eat-

 

Garcia scoffed. “Don't me a fag. It's funny, come on.”

 

Alfred paused in slipping on his coat, intrigued. “How funny?”

 

“Just watch it.”

 

He knew he should probably find out what Arthur wanted. But he was still so bitter from their previous conversation/fight/screaming match.

 

And Tony could wait a little longer for dinner...

 

“Ok just really quick...” Veering off from his course Alfred walked behind the desk to peer over Garcia's shoulder.

 

After a three minute compilation video of drunken fails, Alfred only gave it a 5/10. “That's nothing! I've seen funnier shit then that!” Pushing the security guard aside he typed in the search bar. “Check this video out...”

 

…....................

 

“See ya, Alfred!”

 

“That wasn't that funny...” He muttered as the automatic doors opened to a cool Autumn evening. Checking his phone he noticed with amazement forty minutes had passed and two more calls were missed.

 

Alfred shot a quick text to the Englishman asking what he wanted before getting in his car.

 

Once started, he pulled out of the parking lot and in the direction of his home, pushing the speed limit all the way there. Big Daddy's burgers closed in ten minutes and he had his heart set on a juicy double cheese patty all day long.

 

Alfred didn't bother turning off his car once he pulled into the driveway of his small one story home. He just took his house key and ran to the front door. Only five minutes before the restaurant closed. Leaving the keys dangling in the door Alfred pushed into his foyer.

 

“Shit!” He cursed, stumbling over some empty pizza boxes in the dark entrance way, making a huge racket.

 

Alfred saw the outline of his grey tabby, scramble off the couch and run off to somewhere unknown.

 

“Sorry Tony! It's just me! I'll feed you in a second!” He kicked the boxes back into a mound and flipped on a light.

 

Alfred made way toward his bedroom shedding clothes as he went. He entered his closet and emerged in a black shirt and jeans, lacing up his red converse with his wallet between his teeth. Grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch he quickly opened a can of cat food and left it on the floor before locking up.

 

Once on the road again Alfred flipped through the radio channels rapidly, listening for any familiar tunes. After pressing all six stations a dozen times he scoffed in disgusted. “Nothing ever on the damn radio...”

 

He decided this would be the weekend he would buy a cd dock! This was the 21st century, people had build in touch screen navigational systems and he didn't even have a damn cd dock! With that little resolution declared he left the radio alone and half listened to a debate about the worlds climate or something.

 

As his small subdivision disappeared from the rearview, his phone illuminated on the passenger seat. Someone was calling him, he already knew who it was without even looking. Irritated, he decided to finally answer. After patting the seat blindly, his reaching fingers found his phone.

 

Picking it up he snapped, “Yeah -”

 

“Alfred! Where the hell are you?!” A very clipped british accent whipped his ear drum and he held the phone away from his face as he sped through an intersection.

 

“Uhh..”

“You forgot.” The voice concluded after a moment, sounding as if he were reaching for his last shred of patience. “Of course you did. Why doesn't that surprise me!”

 

“Dude Arthur, I just got off work man chill out! I haven't forgotten...” He pressed the phone against his shoulder and opened his glove compartment, swerving a little as he did. His searching hand found the small black day planner his bristling friend bought him months ago.

 

Arthur told him it would help organize his life. He'd also taken the liberty to write down a bunch of important dates to get him started. Alfred had thanked him and put it in his glove box to start using when he got home. That had been six months ago...

 

“Alfred?”

 

Screeching to a stop at a red light he flipping through it quickly his finger located todays date. Shit...

 

“Kiku's birthday! Of course I haven't forgotten, I'm already on the road dude...umm, where was it again?”

 

“You don't even remember the venue? The Hilton hotel off of Preston.”

 

“Right, right I knew that.”

 

The englishman's tone seemed to lighten slightly and gave way to a little excitement. “Well alright then. I'm telling him you're coming. I'll wait for you out front.”

 

When their call ended, Alfred let out a bent up breath of disbelief. That worked out pretty well. Now he vaguely remembered promising to take tonight off in celebration of his friends birthday but totally spaced it. He didn't even have a present to give him...oh well, Kiku didn't care much for gifts anyway.

 

Flipping on his turn signal he changed directions, trying not to feel too disappointed about dinner.

 

 

 

................................

 

Well this is the first story I've ever published. I don't consider myself a 'writer' and I'm sure you will find many grammatical mistakes, but can't be helped. I failed english class many times lol. Thanks for reading, more chapters to come


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

He flipped into the parking lot, and picked the closest spot available. Twisting the rear view mirror to show his face, he checked his straight teeth and hair situation. As he fought with his cowlick, a sharp knock on the drivers side window made him jump. Pressing a hand to his chest he saw a surprised Arthur standing outside his car. His dark eye brows almost touched his blond hairline as his hand was still poised above the glass.

 

His friend took the liberty of opening the driver side door looking concerned. Alfred quickly turned down the volume of his radio and cut the ignition.

 

“Were you listening to ghost stories again?” The englishman inquired, stepping back as Alfred closed and locked his door.

 

“No..” Immediately Alfred picked up the smell of pleasantly familiar cologne and his heart constricted. Old memories assaulted him and he had to beat them down with a mental sledgehammer before they consumed his very soul.

 

“I told you not to listen to that rubbish it only gives you nightmares!” Arthur fussed, crossing his arms just like he always did.

 

“I can listen to whatever I want!” He snapped, feeling irritated suddenly shoving his keys into his pocket. “I'm not a little kid!”

 

This was a triggering subject for them, and caused many unpleasant squabbles.

 

It was something stemmed from their childhood as Arthur always took the roll of mother hen when they were together. This seemed to work well for them in friendship, but when their friendship developed into something more, it was their undoing. Between Arthur's nagging and Alfred's stubborn rebellious nature, there wasn't much room for romance. And by the end of it, there were a lot of sore feelings on both sides.

 

Arthur held up his hands in a message of peace, obviously taken back by his hostility. His dark brows stitched together in telltale anger.

 

“At no point did I say you were a little kid Alfred. Though you are kind of acting like one right now.”

 

Alfred muttered under his breath. “Whatever man..”

 

How dare he wear that cologne, the younger thought darkly, pocketing his wallet and phone. It wasn't just any cologne, it was a birthday present Alfred purchased specifically because he loved the smell. Come to find out Arthur never really liked cologne and so only wore it when Alfred literally begged. The fact that he consciously chose to wore it tonight was no coincidence.

 

Unable to let it go Alfred continued, “You're lecturing me again, you know I hate it when you do that!” They hadn't seen each other in over three months, and the excitement of reuniting after such a long time was extinguished.

 

“I'm not lecturing I was just – forget it.” Arthur could obviously get the hint he wasn't listening and dropped it. Alfred could see him put his hands in his pockets before following.

 

They both walked in prickly silence and before long, like always, Alfred started to reflect on his behavior and felt the seed of guilt. They both vowed this separation wouldn't ruin years of unbridled friendship, but Alfred was starting to doubt it was ever going to be okay again.

 

Pushing through the revolving doors, Alfred let Arthur take the lead. His eyes landed on a middle aged woman with leopard print pants and a fluffy fur coat.

 

“Can you guess her favorite animal?” He joked, hoping to get a laugh, but instead got a scowl. Alfred huffed as they walked across the lobby and through a set of large oak doors labeled bar lounge and pool.

 

Descending down a rather large set of red carpeted stairs, Alfred could hear a techno beat that got louder as they got closer. He could smell a hint of chlorine and mouthwatering cuisine. He was reminded of his empty stomach and suddenly felt ravenous.

 

A group of young women squeezed by up the stairs and he caught the aroma of their overly sweet perfume. He smiled a genuine smile, when he noticed them staring. They all turned to each other and gave a drunken giggle as they stumbled up the steps.

 

Alfred turned to a scowling Arthur and his smile dropped. “What?”

 

Arthur scoffed in disgust before leaving him behind. “Dude, come on. You're not still mad are you?”

 

Receiving no response the American pushed his hands into his pockets and slowly following behind, admiring the decor. He was use to your average pub with the grumpy but loveable bartender, tattered old bar stools and stained sticky bar surfaces. Every bottle and glass displayed behind the counter sparkled with cleanliness.

 

Blue and violet lights illuminated the back of the bar, and a clean shaven bartender in a crisp suit and tie flipped and spun tequila and vodka bottles with talented hands. A large open outdoor deck wrapped around the building as far as he could see. Alfred sidestepped waiters as they walked by, balancing plates of exquisite looking dishes on the tips of their fingers. He subconsciously straightened out his plain black tee and smoothed down fly away hairs.

 

“I'm going to get us some drinks...” He turned hearing Arthur's mutter. “The parties down a ways.” He pointed off in a specific direction. “Just follow along the railing and you'll see the balloons...”

 

Alfred reached out and grabbed a hand full of finely pressed sweater vest. He spoke very quickly. “Hey, I'm sorry for snapping earlier. I'm just tired, I had a rough day and I took it out on you, forgive me?”

 

Arthur's averted his gaze and crossed his arms. “How many time's have I heard that one.”

 

Alfred acted hurt, though he knew this stance well, he just needed a little more whine in his voice. “Come on, let's not fight tonight, I haven't seen you in months...”

 

This seemed to do the trick and a small smile began to take shape.

 

“Fine, I'll forgive you for being such a tosser, but only because it's Kiku's birthday and I don't want to ruin it for him.”

 

Alfred felt his earlier guilt and anger from their past argument lift as they parted ways.

 

As he travelled in the direction indicated he stuck close to the railing that ran along the length of the deck and let out a low whistle. Just below was a swimming pool and over sized hot tub filled with guests enjoying a cocktail or a smoke under the stars and full moon.

 

Moving further inward toward the lounge, he admired the rows of white U shaped booths each with long knee high table for drinks and food. Each table had elegantly cascading trays full of chocolate dipped fruits and square cut pieces of cake and pastries. Alfred felt his mouth water. Definitely Francis's choice, there was no way Kiku would ever choose a place like this.

 

The last booth on the end was decorated with balloons so thats where he made a bee line too. He spotted the birthday boy first, sitting with his hands folded tightly in his lap. He looked uncomfortable, but that wasn't unusual.

 

Kiku was a funny Japanese fellow that Alfred befriended a few years previous at a Comicon convention. It was the mans first time in America and Alfred felt it was his duty play tour guide. That was a fun day of miscommunications and culture shock. They didn't have too much in common, but it didn't seem to bother either of them. And after introducing him to the rest of the gang he was sucked in pretty quickly. They were a pretty strange group. A sort of melting pot if you will. But thats what kept things interesting between them.

 

As if sensing his approach Kiku looked over and they made eye contact. Alfred called out to him flourishing his arm in greeting, and received a simple nod and a smile in return.

 

"Kiku my man, Happy birthday!" Alfred congratulated when he was close enough. “You ready to get wasted buddy!? Let's take some shots!”

 

“I have a drink already thank you!” He fretted a bit, stiffly gesturing to the drink in front of him but by the looks of how it was sweating on the table and the fact that almost all the ice had melted inside he hadn't touched it.

 

Alfred turned to the only other person at the table. “Hey Frenchy, how you been?”

 

“Dieu merci, you're here!” Francis gushed in over exaggerated relief, fanning himself with a cloth napkin. “Now I don't have to listen to Arthur incessant whining any longer!” Francis huffed, flipping some silky blond locks behind his shoulder.

 

It was well known that Francis and Arthur were long time frenemies. Apparently their great great grandfathers formed a tight bond that lasted generations between the two families. And being born the same year, naturally they were forced to play together as children. But beyond that Arthur never told him exactly why they didn't get along or what exactly happened. There really wasn't much they didn't fight or compete over and it only seemed to get worse as they got older.

 

Alfred laughed freely, digging for a hand full of grapes from the fruit tray before shoving a few in his mouth. “So where's every body else?” He asked around a mouth full of berries.

 

Francis let out a cry of horror, shying away from him. “Must you eat like a barbarian?”

 

“There's that little jerk!” Alfred heard from behind him.

 

“Huh-” A large pale arm flashed into view and his back was slammed against a solid immovable force as his wind pipe was crushed.

 

“Where have you been?!” A familiar German accent shrieked into his ear. “You haven't called me in months!”

 

“Gah!” Alfred choked, trying to dance out of the arm lock. “Gilbert hey dude, can you let up a little - ach!”

 

“Say Onkel and I will!” The soldier teased, sloshing a little of his beer on Alfred's shoes.

 

“Onkel!” Alfred wheezed desperately.

 

“Now say Gilbert is super awesome!”

 

“You're super awesome dammit! Let go!”

 

The German shoved him away with a obnoxious cackle. Alfred leaned against the side of the couch as his friend laughed at his expense.

 

His strange silver hair reflected the soft lighting and Alfred took note that he'd let it grow some since last time they met. It now fell over his forehead and ears, covering the many piercing he had adorned there.

 

“You need to bulk up those scrawny arms of yours!” Rouge colored irises flashed. He had to be at least 4 or 5 beers in by now. "Check out my arms so you know what to aspire for." He continued, flexing his impressive muscle structure.

 

Another familiar face, came into view, and Alfred got excited. “That's enough bruder, must you turn the eyes of everyone in here.” Intrusive blue irises turned sharply on his sibling, who then deflated a little under such an intense gaze.

 

“Ja, ja...”

 

“Dude! Ludwig, I didn't know you were back from your tour! How the hell you been, buddy?”

 

“Alfred,” Ludwig greeted friendly with a strong hand shake. “I'am very well thank you. I only just arrived yesterday. It has been good, Italy is a beautiful country.” He replied running a hand through his longish hair.

 

It seemed both brothers were growing out their normal crop cut. He supposed after years in the service it was nice to go wild every once in a while. Alfred could tell the platinum blond locks had grown at least four inches despite being slicked back from his pale face.

 

The american bounced on the balls of his feet in excitement. “I bet you have loads of cool stories to tell, I can't wait!”

 

Ludwig gave a small controlled chuckle.

 

Gilbert took that time to reassert himself in the conversation, never one to remain out of the spot light for too long. “Cool is not in Ludwig's vocabulary. If you want cool stories then ask me! I have tons of awesome stories from my time in Italy.”

 

The brothers stood side by side and Alfred always found it funny that even though Ludwig was the 'younger' brother he certainly wasn't smaller. He actually stood a full 4 inches taller and at least 20 pounds heavier in muscle over his scrawnier older sibling.

 

In truth Alfred wasn't much smaller then Gilbert in the muscle department. In fact he prided himself on his fit, toned, physic. He could hold his own in a fight. He was certainly no wimp.

 

Movement behind Ludwig's large bicep caught his attention. “Who's that?” Alfred asked, acknowledging a young chestnut haired boy, seeming to cling in Ludwig's shadow.

 

“Oh, right this is a friend, Feliciano.”

 

“Hiya!” Alfred said, peaking around to get a better look.

 

“Salve.” Was the timid accented reply. The boy had a sweet smile and gentle doppy eyes that kept a fixation on Ludwig's profile.

 

“We met in Italy. He's visiting for a short time.” Ludwig replied stiffly then quickly said, “Lets sit down shall we.”

 

Alfred watched as the German wiped down the table with several napkins, before gesturing for the young Italian to sit. Ludwig looked suspiciously nervous as he sat beside him clutched his beer.

 

Suddenly thinking of Arthur he looked around to see what was taking so long and spotted him by the bar chatting with two rather tall gentleman. Alfred could tell by body language alone that the englishman was agitated. Before Alfred could decide on whether to check on him, Arthur excused himself abruptly, his nose slightly in the air. The American kept a side long eye on the men and watched as they kept a lingering gaze on his friend.

 

“Everything alright?” Alfred asked when Arthur was in ear shot, his eyes never leaving the men.

“Of course it is!” Arthur replied briskly, his feathers clearly ruffled. “Just some drunken wankers looking for an easy target, got more then they bargained for I suspect.”

 

That was Arthur for you, all bristles and thorns when he felt threatened. He might be short in stature and small of build but he wasn't an easy target by any means.

 

They both sat down and the night took off. Conversation flowed smoothly as it always did with his companions. And as more drinks came the louder the conversations got.

 

“I'll tell you, I could out drink you any day! And I'm not talking about that sissy shite either. I'm talking about a mans drink! Whiskey!”

 

“What are you talking about Arthur, you hate Whiskey.” Francis sighed swirling his red wine, before taking a sip.

 

“I wasn't talking to you!”

 

“Yes you were.”

 

“...Well I don't want too!”

 

Alfred laughed at his friends banter. He enjoyed listening to them go back and forth, that is until drinks start flying and punches start swinging. But they were way too sober for that yet. The American downed the rest of his beer and turned to the quiet birthday boy and his watered down drink.

 

“Hey Kiku I'm going to get you something else to drink alright,” And when the Japanese man began to protest Alfred wouldn't hear it. “Don't worry I'll get you something good!”

 

Alfred scooted his way out of the booth and could instantly feel the alcohol starting to really hit his system and knew he needed to slow down just a bit. Walking up to the bar he leaned his arms on the smooth glossy surface, waiting for the bartenders attention.

 

Alfred leisurely gazed around at the crowds. He spotted the two men that spoke to Arthur earlier sitting at the opposite end of the bar. They were minding their own business so he let his eyes continue to wonder the room.

 

As if on their own accord his eyes settled on the face of a man not ten feet away. He sat at a high standing bistro style table, an empty glass upside down on the table top. A thick folder filled with papers lay underneath his tightly clasped hands.

 

Across from him sat a woman, with dark hair pulled into a low pony tail. He couldn't fully see her face, just her high cheek bone and one narrow shoulder covered by a dark blue blazer. Her arms were crossed tight and she sat very still. Neither of them seemed to be saying a word.

 

Alfred's gaze went back to the man. There was something about him that demanded his attention. The smooth cream colored skin of his face looked soft and well maintained.

 

His rounded cheeks and full pink lips coupled with fawn colored hair that curled a bit around his ears and neck, made his age impossible to guess. With a slightly protruding nose that wasn't A-typical to the generalized standards of beauty, only added to his unique facial structure.

 

His grey blazer and tightly wrapped scarf did nothing to hide his broad shoulders and chest. And by the way his large feet could reach all the way to the floor said he was quite tall. Taller than Ludwig even.

 

But out of all the interesting features this man had it was his eyes that caught Alfred's interest the most. Deep set they cast a slight shadow over his cheek bones. They were a startling shade of violet, and were slightly rounded with long, gently curling lashes. They were so focused and intense, they barely even blinked.

 

Alfred turned his attention back the bartender, who made eye contact and gestured he'd be there in a moment. Wanting to get one last peak, he looked back up toward the man, only to find those violet eyes fixed on him. Every hair on his body stood on end and for a moment every sound seemed to cut out as that gaze struck him to the spot.

 

There was a strange sense of adrenaline that blossomed in his stomach. Despite being in a public place and surrounded by other patrons, Alfred felt suddenly nervous by the threatening stare of his cold violet eyes.

 

“Yes boss, what can I get you?” Alfred jumped a little as the bartender suddenly appeared before him.

 

“Huh, um, yeah do you have any saki?” He could hear the shake in his own voice. Was the guy still looking at him?

 

“Oh,” The bartender seemed pleasantly surprised. “Yeah, we got really good plum flavored sake and,” The man looked over his shoulder tapping on the counter as he searched his fridge. “Fuji apple. Both are very premium. I like the plum personally, plus it's a pretty pink color.”

 

“The plum please.” Alfred said without hesitation, knowing how much Kiku loved cute things. “The whole bottle if that's alright. And I'll take another Guiness.”

 

“No problem.”

 

Alfred rubbed out his finger prints on counter with the corner of an abandoned napkin as he waited. Being far too reckless for his own good and unable to help himself, he dared to peer up again. He had to know if the man was still looking. The couple were engaged in conversation now. But it wasn't pleasant judging by the body language and how fast they were both speaking.

 

Suddenly the woman stepped down from her chair and gather her belongings. The man stood just as quickly, his chair almost toppling backwards. He was saying something now in rapid succession. Alfred could almost make out what they were saying over the music but not quite.

 

When the woman turned and began to walk away Alfred finally got a look at her face and realized, it was actually a man.

 

“Oh shit.” He blurted in surprise. Plot twist!

 

Violet eyes snapped in his direction again and he ducked his head. Thankfully his drinks came and he thanked the bartender quickly before turning to go back to his table. Whoopsy. He didn't mean to say that out loud, he just didn't see that coming. Oh well, no real harm done, he thought. It wasn't like he would ever see that guy again.

 

When he got back to his group, Arthur zeroed in on him immediately.

 

“What did you do? You look guilty as all hell.”

 

“Wha- what do you mean I didn't do anything!” Sometimes he hated how well Arthur could see right through him.

 

After about an hour passed, Alfred forgot about the silly incident and eventually got up to pee.

 

Humming a nameless tune he took care of business while admiring the sparkling - graffiti free - bathroom walls.

 

Slandering over to the sink he turned on the water just as someone walked in. Alfred thought he heard the smallest of clicks before the figure made his way further into the bathroom. Instead of going to the restroom the man veered for the sinks.

 

Alfred felt a small pinch of irritation as the man chose the spot next to him out of the other 15 sinks that were readily available.

 

The man proceeded to wash his hands and Alfred did a double take at the strange decorative tattoos along his knuckles. He couldn't make heads of tails of them as the symbols and shapes were completely foreign to him. A circle with a dot in the middle decorated his middle finger, and what looked like the Virgin Mary holding baby Jesus occupied the top of his left hand. Alfred always said you could tell a lot about a man just from his hands.

 

Besides clearly having a tattoo fetish, this man was a seasoned fighter. He could tell by the large discolored chalices on his knuckles, a result of repeatedly braking open the skin and not treating the wound. And at least two of his fingers had been broken before as they curved slightly at the knuckle, a sign that they didn't heal correctly. Alfred had boxed for a few years after high school and his coach had hands just like that.

 

There was also a lot of scaring, not just on his fingers and hands, but from the little skin he could see under the sleeve of his jacket, they run up along his wrist as well. Alfred felt sorry for any idiot that might ever get in this guys cross hairs.

 

Curiosity getting the best of him Alfred rolled his eyes up in the mirror to see a pale head of hair. Feeling a lighting bolt of fear shoot up his spine, he realized it was the man from before. A cold sweat covered his body. Shit shit shit...

 

Did he recognize Alfred? Jesus he hoped not. Keeping his head ducked as far down as he could manage. Alfred turned off the water and quickly grabbed a hand full of towels drying off rather hazardously.

 

Suddenly he felt a presence at his back and froze. An arm reached around him so close he flinched away from it pressing against the wall. Alfred watched helplessly as the guy grabbed a couple paper towels from the dispenser.

 

This encroachment on his personal space was completely threatening and he was forced into the corner as the man now stood in front of the dispenser blocking his exit. Wedged between the wall, sink and this mans towering form Alfred just sort of stood there, perplexed.

 

The man finished drying his hands as if he had nothing else better to do, then cleanly tossed the paper in the garbage. Once his hands were free he turned to Alfred, and smiled...

 

The gesture completely unnerving him to his very core. It was quite different from the intense focused look he had at the table. The man had a such an open face with those rounded cheeks and soft curling lips, that he could easily give you a false sense of security. Those rounded eyes and protruding nose took on more of a shadow in the brightly lit bathroom, giving him a more ominous demeanor. More of a reflection of what Alfred could see lay beneath the surface.

 

Alfred did his best to look tall and strong, hiding the fact that he was very intimidated. This man was a good head taller then him and at least thirty pounds heavier. He tried to make his throat and tongue cooperate and say something, anything, but nothing would come out. He wanted to yell at him to back the fuck up but just couldn't break from the mans haunting, but beautiful violet stare.

 

When Alfred heard the bathroom doorknob jiggle but not open, he swallowed hard, knowing he wasn't coming out of this bathroom unscathed.

 

“What, nothing to say?” The man simply asked in a rolling Slavic accent, far too sweet to be coming out of the almost six foot tall giant. “You seemed like you had something to say earlier. Did you like the show?”

 

The energy between them was thick with building tension, and Alfred prepared for whatever was coming.

 

“Look dude, I wasn't trying to start anything.” He tried to remain relaxed to defuse the situation and gave a friendly smile, trying to play off a little of his natural charm. “It was just a misunderstanding- OOF!”

 

Alfred doubled over as a meaty fist slammed into his unprotected stomach. It was a cheap sucker punch. He gagged violently, clutching at his mid section. Every muscle in his abdomen tightened up from the shock. One knee quickly gave out, until he was kneeling, one hand supporting his weight against the white tile. Spit leaked from his open mouth as he desperately gasped for air, narrowly missing the mans black leather shoes.

 

He didn't have time to breathe before the man was reaching for him.

 

The neck of his shirt practically tore as he lifted the American back up until he was practically on his tip toes. They were almost nose to nose now. A sound like a whimper escaped Alfred's mouth as his eyes pooled with tears of pain.

 

“Sorry,” The man's smile even bigger, reducing his eyes to violet slits. “You were saying?”

 

Unable to draw breath, Alfred struggled to form the words. “What the hell -AH!”

 

Alfred was mercilessly slammed against the bathroom wall, his head bouncing off the hard tile. He tasted blood in his mouth and realized he bit his own tongue.

 

There was banging now on the bathroom door, but it seems distant.

 

“Listen here you American svin'ya." He practically snarled. "Rich amerikanskiy slobs are all the same. Fake, stupid and can never keep your loud mouths shut.”

 

Beyond the point of trying to explain himself, Alfred spit in his face. Saliva mixed with blood ran down his pale cheek. Alfred was able to take just enough breath to say, “Fuck...you...dick.” Blinking back the annoying build up of tears threatening to spill over.

 

The man giggled, a horrifying sound. “Ty khochesh' umeret' amerikantsem?” His voice was so sweet, almost childlike, it would haunt him for days after. “You are weak like a baby, are you going to cry now?”

 

“Hell no.” Alfred said, gripping the mans broad shoulders and digging his knee cap hard into his gut. He could play dirty too.

 

His attacker immediately let go with a grunt. Taking the opportunity Alfred laid into him with quick rapid punches. Landing anywhere that would do damage. Clipping him in the chin, the Russian stumbled back clutching his jaw. Alfred almost lost his own footing from the momentum but managed to remain balanced.

 

They were both out of breath now, just glaring at each other.

 

“Yeah.” Alfred answered the unspoken question in the Russians dark glare. Gathering up a mouth full of bloody saliva, Alfred spit on the floor. “You wanna go, lets go.” He challenged, throwing up his arms in a defensive position. Fists tight and high near his face. It's been awhile since he's had a good scrap.

 

The Russian wiggled his jaw a little before straightening up but never put up his dukes. Moments passed while they both sized each other up. Alfred was practically bouncing on his feet in anticipation. But before either of them could make a move, the scrapping of metal and the sound of the lock moving out of place could be heard.

 

They both turned and saw the bartender peaking his head inside the restroom. “Sorry guys, this door is to remain unlocked at all times. And if you're having a dispute you need to take it outside.”

 

The Russian was the first to speak, his smile suddenly back in place. “No problem, we were just discussing politics.”

 

“Well I'm not gunna 86 you guys, but another incident like this and I'm going to have to call security.”

 

“No problem I was just leaving anyway.” The creep said, straightening out his tie. “Enjoy your party.” He said over his shoulder as he left the bathroom.

 

Alfred was still shaking when he made his way out a few seconds later. There was a small crowd of men just out side waiting. Alfred wasn't sure what they saw in his face but it must have been something to behold because they made a hole for him immediately. This just wasn't his night....

.........................................

 

More chapters to come. Thanks for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred took a slow deep breath through his nose, expanding his lungs and bringing him back to the living. 

 

It was morning. 

 

He could see the soft golden light that burned behind the shutters, even with his eyes still closed. And he hated it.

 

Alfred turned his head to look at his alarm clock and peered out through one squinting lid.

 

6:33 am

 

Digging a sore knuckle into his eye, Alfred stared up at his popcorn ceiling. His house was deathly quiet which told him his friends had left at some point during the night. He didn't remember making it to his bed...in fact he was finding a few holes in his memory. With no desire to get out of bed, possibly ever again, he began recounting the rest of the nights happenings...

 

Gilbert was the first to see him arrive back at the table since leaving for the bathroom. Obviously In the middle of telling a story, he stopped mid sentence to greet him. “What the hell happened to you? Get your dick caught in your zipper...” The German trailed off as he looked him up and down.

 

“Oi Alfred,” Arthur hiccuped, looking troubled. "Did you have a row with someone in the bathroom?"

 

“Would you believe me if I told you I got into a fight with a Russian mobster.” He attempted a smile, rubbing his sore belly. Kiku shifted himself over in the booth giving him room to sit.

 

Gilbert cackled. “You wish you were that cool.”

 

“Heh yeah...” Alfred retorted weakly, scanning the crowd for his attacker as he took a seat. Where the fuck did that asshole go? If this had happened anywhere else on any other night he would be hunting that creep down. Unfortunately he couldn't abandon his friend on his birthday, just wasn't right. So he would shake it off for now and think on it later. “Actually it was just some jerk trying to pick a fight with me.”

 

Arthur shot up from his seat, sloshing his beer on the table. “Good heavens we should report him to security!”

 

“Picking a fight in the men bathroom, how undignified.” Francis complained, sticking his nose in the air.

 

"Pauroso!"

 

“Did you kick his ass American?”

 

“Bruder please...” Ludwig warned. “Are you alright Alfred?”

 

Alfred let out a carefree laugh. “Yeah, he's probably long gone now, lets just forget about it.” 

 

Arthur looked like he wanted to insist, but when Gilbert continued his story he reluctantly sat back down. It was after a few minutes Kiku leaned in close to him, cupping his hand to whisper. “Are you sure you're alright Alfred? You hands haven't stopped shaking since you came back.”

 

“Huh?” He peered down at his open palm before curling it into a tight fist.

 

“Alfred?”

 

“Yeah sorry, I'm alright. Just a long day, I'm pretty tired.”

 

Kiku just hummed, obviously not wanting to pry further if Alfred said he was fine. 

 

When last call was finally heard hours later, Alfred felt relieved, he was ready to get out of there. Plans were already made to meet up at his place for more drinks, and maybe a card game or two. He wanted to take a shower, pull on a pair of sweat pants and relax in the security of his home.

 

He steadied a drunken Arthur as they all headed toward the exit. At the end of the bar were the two men Arthur had words with earlier in the night. They were slowly gathering up their coats and eye balling Alfred openly. He took note of their similarly unremarkable features. Brothers. Twins possibly.

 

For once he was planning on minding his own business, until he felt hot breath on his ear as he passed. “Hey faggot, did you enjoy getting your dick sucked in the bathroom?”

 

Flinching away, Alfred turned to face him, astounded at his gall. “What the hell did you just say to me?”

 

Arthur grabbed his arm sharply, trying to usher him along. “Oh leave it Alfred, you've been in one fight already, that's enough. He's not worth it.”

 

Lifeless brown eyes now treaded on his friend. “But I bet you're worth every penny.” He boldly pulled out some crumpled money from his pocket. “What can I get for twenty bucks?”

 

“Son of a bitch.” Alfred growled, slamming his fist into the guys face before he even knew he was in a fight. He landed face down and didn't move again.

 

“Alfred!” Arthur was yanking on his arm trying to hold him back. “What the hell are you doing?!”

 

“Stay back!” He shouted, pushing Arthur off of him as a wild left hook caught the side of his head. Dodging swings, he backed up a step to get some space between him and his attacker, shaking off the ringing in his ears.

 

Alfred put up his arms to block another punch but it never landed as Gilbert thrust himself in the middle of the fight, jumping on the guys back and knocking them both into a table. Innocent bystanders scattered as their drinks went flying.

 

“Break it up!” The bartender yelled, picking up the phone behind the counter.

 

“Shit.” Alfred cursed, grabbing a distressed Arthur and Kiku by the arm. “Lets go, Gilbert he's calling the cops!”

 

“Bruder, leave him!” Ludwig bellowed, holding on tight to his terrified Italian friend. Gilbert landed one more punch before joining his brother to run for the stairs.

 

Alfred also ducked in with the other patrons rushing toward the exit. He kept a strong hold on his two friends as not to lose them.

 

They made it out the double doors with the crowd as security was just making it to the stairs. 

 

“I think we're in the clear.” Alfred assured, letting go of both their arms, but not slowing just incase.

 

“You know you can't solve every problem by fighting Alfred! This is why I never take you to nice places!” Arthur cried dramatically, fumbling for his keys. 

 

“Wait what?” Alfred snapped, coming to a halt. “I think I deserve a thank you! I just defended you against those assholes.”

 

“You beat up a couple of drunks, thanks for that!”

 

“Oh what, you like that kind of attention? Fine go home with them, who am I to stop you from making a stupid drunken mistake! God knows you've made plenty of those.” 

 

The Englishman was almost spiting in his anger. “That's rich coming from someone who practically makes a career out of making mistakes! I'm always cleaning up your proverbial life fuck ups!”

 

Kiku stood by and fretted wiping a hand across his sweating forehead. “Now now, let's not fight please...”

 

“Yeah that's all I'am to you, a time honored fuck up who can't get his shit together. I'm so sick and tired of hearing you say that!"

"Well what about poor kiku! You ruined his birthday party!"

 

"Don't drag him into this!"

 

"Yes, please don't!" 

 

"Look I'm not your problem anymore Arthur just-” That's when Alfred did a double take. He was sure he just saw pale ashen colored hair amongst the crowd.

 

Arthur popped up in front of him looking concerned. “What's the matter with you?”

 

“Uh nothing. Let's just...meet up at my place alright. I'm sure everyone else is already on their way.” 

 

Arthur huffed again, not ready to let the argument drop, but complied anyway. “Fine.” He said, before grabbing Kiku and unlocking his car. How quickly their fight was brushed off. But that was always how it was with them. It was just too frequent to be considered a cute pastime.

 

Alfred found his own vehicle a few spaces down and opened his door, only to pause as a strange feeling passed over him. He instinctively raised his head to scan the parking lot. He felt his skin prickle as his blue eyes locked with unwavering violet. Where the hell had he been hiding all night?

 

The Russian man was watching him from his own vehicle. A sleek, black colored sports car with dark tinted windows. Alfred didn't care too much about automobiles, but he recognized the Audi emblem. He was pretty sure that car cost as much as his house. This psycho, whoever he was, obviously had money. 

 

Alfred felt his blood boil all over again. Did he want round two or what?

 

The other man made a show of tugging at his scarf to cover up an obvious smile and chuckle. Fuckin' creep. Alfred slammed his door shut, fully intent on walking over and confronting him. And this time he was fully prepared. No cheap shot to throw him off.

 

Just as Alfred made to approach, Kiku slowed to a stop in Arthurs Toyota, dry leaves crunching under the tires.

 

“What are you doing? Lets go before the cops show up!” Arthur shouted through the open passenger window. 

 

Alfred waved them on. “Yeah, I'm right behind you.”

 

“Who were you looking at?” Arthur clucked, looking in that direction.

 

“This guy-” But when Alfred looked back up the man had already started his car, and began pulling out of his parking spot. “Never mind, it doesn't matter...” 

 

Arthur must have sensed something was wrong because he gentled his tone. “Well, come on then...we shouldn't linger. You're fit to drive? You can hop in with us.”

 

"I'm fine, a couple punches to the head can to wonders to sober you up. I'll see you there." Alfred replied as he turned back to his car.

 

'The fuck is that guys problem, seriously...' Alfred thought, opening his door again and settling inside. 

 

Alfred pulled into his driveway just as Arthur and Kiku ascended the stairs of his stoop. He quickly joined them shaking out his keys to find the one for the dead bolt.

 

“Attendre! Wait!” All three of them turned to see Francis getting out of his car, blond locks in disarray and a napkin still tucked into his shirt. In all honesty Alfred had completely forgotten about the Frenchman.

 

“Quick let's get inside and lock the door.” Arthur said, pushing on the Americans back.

 

“How dare you!” Francis screamed once he reached the porch steps, throwing the tucked cloth on the ground. “You just left me there in the middle of a war zone to die! And look what some crétin did to my shirt!” He pointed to a large ugly red stain around the collar.

 

Arthur didn't even appear sorry as he looked down his slender nose. “We had to cut our loses, and you would only slow us down wearing those heels.”

 

“These shoes are Gucci!” The Frenchman snapped, stomping his foot.

 

“Come on guys, don't fight.” Alfred intervened. Trying his best to look apologetic, he said, “I'm really sorry about your blouse, I can throw it in the wash for you.”

 

“This is not a blouse!” The Frenchman shouted, his angry eyes now directed at Alfred. “I'll have you know this shirt was a gift from Louis Malletier, you American Yokel! And wine stains do not come out of silk!”

 

“Oh shut it already! No body cares!” Arthur fumed, muscling Alfred back toward his front door. “I'll get you a new one! I'm pretty sure my ninety year old grandmother has one just like it hanging in her closet.”

 

“Ah!” Francis visibly flinched back as if struck. “Arthur why must you be so cruel to me! What did I ever do to deserve such hatred!”

 

“Just get inside already you're waking the neighbors, you buffoon!”

 

..................................

 

Thank you so much gagal_axzel, SethlineWinters for your wonderful comments! Couldn't seem to focus enough to edit this chapter properly, sorry if it seems rushed or has lots of mistakes! More chapters to come.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer : I don't own it

Pushing against the mattress Alfred managed to sit up with grueling effort. Every muscle was stiff and sore.

 

Lifting his shirt above his navel, he rubbed a large contusion that formed over night. When he looked at it closely he could see two large knuckle imprints clearly visible. 

 

“Damn Russian bastard.” Alfred spat. If he ever saw that creepy ass smile of his again he would make sure to finish what he started. He smirked a little thinking of how he knocked his ass back a few steps. Wasn't expecting that huh.

 

Slowly Alfred slipped his legs out from under his sheets and stuffed his feet into his house slippers. 

 

Like a wounded animal, Alfred rose out of bed and limped to his bathroom.

 

He laughed bitterly at his reflection. 

 

"What a fucking mess." Alfred muttered, pinching at his fluid filled cheek. 

 

Slathering some tooth paste on his tooth brush he carefully rotated the brussels around his mouth with care. He spit gently and wriggled his tender jaw back and forth try to work out the bruised muscles. He smiled wide to check all of his precious teeth. He would be devastated if one of them were damaged. His smile was an essential part of him. His dimples had gotten him out of more trouble then he cared to say, and a broken tooth would seriously damper its effectiveness. 

 

After a quick shower and change of clothes he shuffled his way into the kitchen, buttoning up his jeans as he went. 

 

He curled into himself as a coughing fit over took him. His stomach muscles disapproving after so much abuse.

 

“Gotta stop smoking when I drink...” He muttered, picking up a fallen bar stool and slinging his faded black shirt over the arm.

 

He shielded his eyes from the sink full of dirty dishes and turned on his Kurege. "Coffee and ibuprofen first then responsibilities."

 

Popping his last Kcup into the coffee machine he spotted his cat sitting in his usual spot by the window, people watching.

 

“Tony my man, you were wild last night. You were hitting the cat nip a little too hard buddy.”

 

The grey tabby yawned lazily stretching out his back legs and arching his back as Alfred scratched his favorite spot behind his soft ear.

 

Alfred looked up at the sky and could see dark clouds on the horizon. “Hm, looks like a storms coming...” He idly noted.

 

Prepping his coffee just the way he liked it, he sat down on the couch and turned the TV on. Pushing empty beer bottles out of the way with his foot, he propped both feet up on the coffee table and settled in.

 

….................

 

Alfred lounged on the couch for the rest of the day only getting up to obtain food from the kitchen pantry. His energy level just wasn't what it use to be after a night of drinking and fighting. Must be getting old.

 

Netflix occupied most of his day, huddled under a blanket with the blinds closed and lights turned off. The bowl of Chex mix balanced precariously on his lap, would be his late lunch early dinner.

 

He browsed the horror section with his remote, trying to find a scary movie he hadn't watched yet, not an easy feat, when his phone vibrated next to him.

 

Text message from Arthur: 'How are you feeling?'

'Fine, I've felt worse.'

'I'm well aware.” He made a face and dug his bruised hand back into his snack bowl.

 

'Well don't over do it, you're not a kid anymore, you need to take care of yourself. Btw, I took the liberty of throwing out all those empty pizza boxes by your front door, I almost tripped on them leaving last night. Make sure you eat something with sustenance not junk food. Also don't forget to buy something nice for the reunion...'

 

'Alright, alright I got it.'

 

Alfred sighed, dropping his phone back on the cushion. Didn't he ever just relax?

 

Around nine Alfred shuffled back to bed anticipating a long work day the next day and needed his strength to get through it. He ended his weekend with the usual pondering of how was he going to possibly make it though this week, and tucked in for bed.

 

…...................

 

Alfred made it through the next two weeks like a zombie. Sleep, work, eat, repeat. He was looking forward to a week off. He was going to do nothing but watch TV, play video games, eat junk food and nap for the next seven days. 

 

Popping a bag of popcorn Alfred pushed back the curtain over his little kitchen window. The weather had been crazy lately, storms had been ravaging the coastline mercilessly and Alfred was tired of getting wet every time he left his house. But Texas wasn't exactly known for it's predictable weather patterns. It was called Tornado Valley for a reason. 

 

His phone vibrated on the coffee table and he leaned forward to see if was Arthur again.

 

'Don't forget, this Friday at 5:00, meet up at my place.”

 

Oh right. He'd forgotten again. His ten year high school reunion was this month and he still hasn't bought any appropriate clothes. He'd rather just wear jeans and a T-shirt, even better he'd like to just skip the whole ordeal. But he already knew Arthur would pitch a fit and he didn't feel like fighting with him again so soon.

He'd go to the mall tomorrow...or maybe Tuesday since the roads will still be wet...Actually Wednesday would probably be best, since he was so tired he'd need a few days to relax before going out shopping.

 

After all he still had four days to get something together. Technically five since he didn't have to be over there until the evening. He could even get up early Friday and go shopping that day! And they usually had sales on Friday. Yeah that's probably what he'd do.

 

As if reading his thoughts, Tony meowed at him skeptically.

 

“What?” He grumbled around a mouth full of popcorn. “I'll get it done...”

 

Alfred snuggled down further into the blankets and pillows, feeling his eyes get heavier and heavier as he scrolled through movie selections. The soft tapping of the rain against his window was a pleasant white noise. He let his lids close for a moment. 

 

Knock knock knock!

 

“Wassat?!” Alfred struggled up on the couch, caught up in his blanket. The popcorn bowl bounced on the floor spilling the remainder of its contents and causing Tony to jump off the arm rest and run into one of the bedrooms. Alfred saw nothing but shadows in his living room. The TV was off and the streetlights outside were no longer illuminated.

 

His cloudy brain registered now that the power must have gone out. Pounding on his door had him jumping up to his feet. 

 

“Who the hell...” He muttered. 

 

Alfred peered through the peep hole to see Arthur holding a flashlight, drenched to the bone.

 

He slipped the lock out of place and pulled the front door open. 

 

“Do you ever answer your phone?” Arthur demanded, pushing his way through the partial opening.

 

“Come on in.” Alfred grumbled, locking up behind him.

 

“I've been calling you for over an hour! You had me worried sick!”

 

“Chill out I fell asleep.” The American felt his blood pressure rise as he brushed passed his dripping friend.

 

“Well I wish you wouldn't put your phone on silent. What if there's an emergency and no one can get a hold of you, honestly.”

 

Alfred bit his tongue, as he began picking up the fallen pieces of popcorn. “What do you want Arthur, did you come all the way over here just to lecture me?”

 

“No, I came over here because I thought you might be in trouble, excuse me for caring!”

 

“I'm a big boy I can take care of myself.”

 

Silence clogged up the room as Arthur leaned against the back of the couch just watching him. Alfred could tell he wanted to say more. He could feel something brewing in the air, heady and unstoppable. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this surprise visit. 

 

“Actually there is something I want to discuss...”

 

Here we go.

 

Alfred played it cool. “Oh?”

 

“Are we ever going to talk about what happened?”

 

Acting dumb he said, “It was just a fight, the guy had it coming.”

 

“I'm not talking about the row you had at the bar, Alfred. I'm talking about the way things ended between us. I'm tired of all this tension that's built up. I don't want what we couldn't have ruin what we did.”

 

“Nothing is ruined. We're just as we've always been. You're a nagging mother hen and I'm a careless selfish jerk.” Alfred said, rapping the side of the bowl hard against the garbage can. “Just as it's always been.”

 

“See there! That's what I'm talking about.” Arthur pointed an accusing finger. “You can't talk to me like a civil human being, you don't answer my calls, yet when someone else comes to chat me up you come charging in like a jealous lout!”

 

This seemed to be just the spark to get the low burning embers in his heart to a blazing inferno.

 

“What did you expect me to do, stand there and watch like some fuckin' pussy!” The bowl was tossed into the sink with a loud clatter. “What, just because we aren't dating anymore you think I don't care! That the kind of man you think I Am? You obviously think pretty little of me.”

 

Arthur seemed to clamp his mouth shut as his jaw flexed in the moonlight. Then began to say something but Alfred was already jumping back into it.

 

“Well what did you expect would happen when you left me, huh? You thought we'd just step back into our old roles and live on like nothing ever happened. Like I never loved you and my heart isn't broken?!” Alfred left the kitchen to stand on his living room carpet leaving just a few feet between them.

 

“Listen to you playing the martyr!” Arthur shouted, matching him, volume and intensity. “You wanted this relationship to end just as badly as I! And don't think you're the only one who's hurting. I can't listen to the radio or watch TV without seeing or hearing something that reminds me of you and it feels like a stakes been driven through my chest. And despite all that I'm the only one who puts forth any effort to patch this shamble of a friendship! But no more, I'm done!”

 

Without another word Arthur grabbed his jacket and stormed out the door, slamming it with purpose.

 

Standing in his dark house all alone, ears still ringing, Alfred felt that sick pit in his stomach grow. He really was a jerk.

 

…..................

 

Alfred rolled over in bed looking for a comfortable position. He'd been laying awake for hours unable to get the fight he and Arthur had out of his head.

 

He felt so much regret. Regret for how he acted, regret for pushing their relationship to the next level when he should have been grateful for what he had. But that just wasn't in Alfred's nature. He had to have it all. And now he had nothing.

 

He wallowed in self pity for another hour before grabbing his phone off the night stand.

 

He found Arthurs number in his recently missed call log and pressed down firmly. He sat up in bed anxiously as it rang only once.

 

“Alfred?” Came the quick, concerned answer. Alfred heard the click of his bedside lamp though the phone. He pictured his tossed blond hair and dark brows drawn in worry. “What's wrong?”

 

Whatever Alfred was going to say seemed to get caught in his throat. 

 

“Alfred?”

 

He refused to cry though. He wasn't some weepy eyed girl.

 

Alfred cleared his throat and Arthur chose to remain silent as if to give him time to collect himself.

 

“Uh, hey Arthur...” He began with a trembling tired voice. He tried to think of where to begin and after a long sigh he decided to just speak from his heart. Right or wrong. “I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I was being an asshole and inconsiderate of...your feelings.”

 

Silence met his ear so he stumbled on. “And you're right I'm tired of all the tension and the fighting. I want things to be like they once were, you're still my best friend. I know it's been 6 months, but, I just, I'm still not fully healed...I guess I still need time. I think we both do. But I promise I'll try. Do you forgive me?” When he didn't get a reply he checked to see if his phone had hung up on him. “You still there?”

 

“Yeah..” Came a raspy reply followed by some sniffles. “Blimey, that had to be the maturest thing you've ever said to me.”

 

Alfred blanched, “I-I've said a lot of mature stuff before!” Becoming instantly flustered. “Fine, if you're not going to take me seriously, then forget it!”

 

“Oh Alfred, I was only teasing!” Arthur laughed, sounding like he was wiping away tears. “Thank you for being honest with me. You don't know how relieved I am. For the last few months I thought perhaps...you'd stopped caring.”

 

“I don't think I'm capable of that...” Alfred said honestly. He would always care for Arthur that he was sure of.

 

“Well...thanks for calling me, I also promise to stop pushing so hard and give you some time.”

 

“Thanks Iggy...night.”

 

“Goodnight.”

 

.......................

Thanks for the Kudos! More chapters to come


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own it

Alfred fixed his hair in Arthurs grand living room mirror.

 

“Die stupid cowlick...” He muttered, flattening down a particularly obnoxious curl with both hands.

 

“Oh leave it be Alfred.” Arthur sighed walked back into the living room holding two different colored ties. 

 

“But a hair style can make or break an outfit.” He said with such seriousness the englishman had to look him in the eye to determine if he was joking or not.

 

“Right, coming from the bloke who shops for clothes at Walmart.”

 

“I'll have you know Fruit of the loom is high quantity clothing. A bag of five black tees sets me back almost ten dollars.”

 

Alfred was actually pretty proud of himself. He managed to put together a decent outfit all by himself. But while he managed to procure a pair of slacks and a nice button up shirt he forgot the accessories that apparently were very important. Like a tie, cufflinks and matching socks. Luckily Arthur had a bigger closet then Paris Hilton. Almost as big as Francis's, but not so frilly. 

 

Kiku was silently poised with both hands folded in front of him, occupying one of Arthurs fancy floral pattern arm chairs. He was Alfred's plus one since he didn't go to the same high school as them.

 

Not able to help himself Alfred asked, “I thought you got rid of that ugly thing?” Catching Arthur's eyes in the mirror as he gestured to the piece of furniture. 

 

“I never said I was getting rid of it.” Arthur snapped, instantly defensive. “Besides it ties the room together.” There was a flourishing of his hand. 

 

Floral patterns and old ball and claw furniture covered every inch of his house. The dark polished wood made the living space feel dated and far too mature for a twenty eight year old guy. And despite being slightly cluttered with antiques and decorative fine china, everything had a strange sterile, coldness. As if the house were a museum, with a look but don't touch policy. 

 

Alfred preferred a living space to have a warm 'lived in' feeling. You might see a shirt laying around or find a pair of shoes under the couch or even discover a wet towel hanging on a door knob, that was all apart of the charm. But his sentiments were already known on that matter and unfortunately this was a big hurdle in their relationship. It was something they just couldn't get passed. Alfred's up bringing was a far cry from Arthurs clean and tidy family life. 

 

Growing up for Alfred had been survival. 

 

His earliest memory was hiding in a dark space, he thinks probably a closet. The light from under the door illuminates his little brother's rounded face, scrunched up in fear. Alfred get's the feeling he did something he shouldn't have. And he remembered Mathew saying something like, “He's going to find us.” Overwhelming dread began to swell up inside of him. A feeling that always consumed him when ever he thought about it. 

 

An empty fridge, his brothers frightened face, the space under the bed and dark closets with broken locks. 

 

When he was 11 years old, Alfred's parent's lost custody of him and his younger brother. 

 

They hardly ever spoke about it, and if he had his way he'd bury it down so deep it would never find its way to the surface. For seven years they ended up in a few different foster homes, before Alfred turned 18 and could get a place of his own. With the help of some friends, but mostly Arthur and his family, they were able to get a small apartment close to Mathew's high school so he could finish out the year.

 

Alfred looked at himself in the reflection of the mirror an smiled bitterly. He just did what anyone would do to survive. And sometimes that meant making bad or hard decisions. Decisions that people like Arthur wouldn't understand.

 

“This one should do nicely I think.” Arthur said, choosing the silver tie over the black and approached Alfred from behind.

 

“I don't know why you're making me dress up so fancy...” Alfred whinnied, letting his friend manipulate him so he could loop the silky fabric under his collar.

 

“Don't you want to look sharp and put together for all your old teachers? You want to show everyone how much you've grown don't you?” Arthur smiled, his green eyes glistening with pride.

 

Alfred felt like a kid being prepped for his first day at school. His shoulder slumped.

 

“I guess...” Alfred muttered, unable to muster up any genuine excitement about the inevitable gathering.

 

A few more tugs and Arthur hummed in approval, patting him on the arm he said, “There we are, how smart you look, see?” Alfred adjusted the tie in the mirror, feeling his cheeks heat up for some reason. If Arthur noticed he said nothing as he turned away moving to sit on the couch.

 

The two of them still held on strong to that bond they created in their youth. But it was unfortunate that as adults, they couldn't seem to make it work in a romantic way. Arthur had a fragile structural base that he built his life upon and it took Alfred a long time to understand. 

 

When something came along and threatened to shake or destroy his imperfect organized system, he simply fell apart. Because of this, the smallest inconsistencies just in day to day life, would set Arthur off. He always drilled into Alfred's head that everything, no matter what it was, had a place it belonged and should never be out of its place.

 

“The books belong on the book shelf not on the coffee table.” 

“Shoe's belong in the shoe closet not by the front door.”

“Dirty dishes belong in the dish washer not in the sink.” 

“Socks belong on your feet or in the sock drawer not balled up in your trainers.” 

 

Alfred did not and would not operate like this. His life was a chaotic mess, full of uncertainty and spontaneous questionable decisions and that was just how he liked it. Call him a rebel but if he didn't want to put the milk back in the fridge right away because he just might want another bowl of cereal in a minute, he would do it dammit! 

 

Deep down Alfred had always felt that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he wanted it he just couldn't live up to the other mans expectations. That was the worst feeling Alfred had ever experienced. 

 

His eyes turned back to Arthurs reflection. His green eye were checking his watch on the underside of his wrist, both brows furrowed with irritation. Still, Alfred couldn't help the feeling of fondness swelling in his chest. Despite everything they've been through and all the terrible fights they've had, a part of him would always - 

 

“Francis! What is taking you so bloody long man!” Arthur suddenly shouted, looking over his shoulder at the open hall way. “We have twenty minutes to get to the hotel before it starts and ten minutes of traffic to fight along the way! I bet you didn't fill your car up with gas like I told you too either! Quite flat ironing your hair and get out here already!” But then there was that part of him that Alfred could not just over look. 

 

A lackadaisical reply in fluid french drifted from the bathroom. Alfred didn't understand it but Arthur sure did.

 

“It's five o clock on a Friday night what do you think!?” A vein pulsating in the brits forehead as he snapped forward in his seat. “Wanker...”

 

“We got plenty of time.” Alfred assured, honestly not bothered if they miss the whole event.

 

“That's because you could care less if we go or not.” Arthur chimed, practically reading his thoughts.

 

Hating conflict Kiku garnered his attention. “So Arthur how is the new book coming along. I found your last edition very enlightening. I had no idea English folklore could be so interesting.” 

 

There was an immediate shift as Arthur heard this. “Oh well, yes it is quite fascinating. When I first began my research of Folklore, I found myself elbow deep in books on Paganism. As you are aware folklore dates back centuries, and many aspects of Pagan religion can be found in lore from Europe's pre-Christian past...” 

 

Alfred already felt his attention slipping as Arthur prattled on, his mind floating elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I wanted to delve a little more into Alfred's past, so next chapter will touch on that. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own it

It was the first semester of ninth grade, and Alfred was already a regular in the principals office. 

This wasn't unusual for him as he'd been kicked out of a few schools in the last few years for “Questionable judgement” and “Unorthodox conduct”. 

 

The entire administration office at his new school already knew him by name, and share looks of disappointment whenever he walked through the double doors with a pink slip in hand. He just smiled and shrugged, before taking his usual seat, awaiting his turn to speak with the vice principal. Most kids would be rehearsing or fretting over what to say, but not him. There was no need too, he wasn't scared. He just did what he thought was right. Alfred wasn't a troublemaker, he just got into trouble a lot. There's a difference.

 

And early that morning he had been faced with a decision to either stand by and watch a girl get harassed for something as trite as being a little over weight, or stand up for her. Clearly no one else was. So Alfred kindly asked the group of bullies to stop, he wasn't looking for a fight, he just didn't like seeing girls cry. 

 

They took the first swing, what was he supposed to do, it was four against one. He had to defend himself.

 

He didn't understand why the teachers needed to be involved in the first place. They could have handled it between them like men. Just because they started a fight and ended up getting the shittier end of the deal didn't mean they needed to run for the adults. And of course he was the only one being punished, just because he had a record. It just wasn't fair.

 

He wasn't too worried about his sentence, though. Even as a young boy Alfred was quite aware of his charisma. Dealing with teachers and authority figures had become a sort of art form to him. A tool he could wield to change the out come in his favor. He was very good at getting out of trouble because of this.  
He was sure to talk his way out of expulsion, the most he would get is detention or sent home for the day. Mathew would be mad at him again, he'd probably cry. 

 

Alfred pictured his brothers sweet smile. Face so similar to his own, they could almost be twins. But that is where the similarities ended. They couldn't be more opposites. Thank god. Alfred was a fuck up, but his brother was going to make something of himself. They didn't even attend the same high school because he was so damn smart. He wondered if maybe he'd applied himself more in his studies he could have been as smart as Mathew...

 

Alfred pondered this as he folded two pieces of bubble gum onto his tongue and proceeded to make the biggest bubble in history. 

 

It was around that time that a blond haired green eyed boy first walked in the office, both his parents in tow.

 

While peeling gum off his face, Alfred remembered thinking how clean they looked. All three of them were so fresh and finely pressed in matching white and navy blue clothing. 

 

This young boy looked very mature in a white button up shirt, sleeved rolled up to his elbows and a blue sweater vest over top. His slacks didn't have a single wrinkle and his shoes were spit shine clean. 

 

When they disappeared from his view Alfred had leaned far over in his plastic chair, almost toppling it over to keep sight of them. He strained to listen as they spoke to the administration lady.

 

“I believe I spoke to you on the phone, my son is transferring here. We just moved from England.” Alfred had never heard an accent like that before but he thought it was super rad.

 

A transfer student from across the world! He was even more intrigued now!

 

With out warning the principles office door swung open banging him on the head, making the door rattle. He swallowed his gum on accident and began choking on it. Everyone in the office looked back at the commotion. Including the new transfer, his thick brows raised.

 

Alfred rubbed the top of his head, watering eyes now on the floor. His cheeks were flushed he could feel it.

 

“Oh Alfred...” The principle sighed with hopeless pity. “What am I going to do with you?” He didn't want the happy family to see. To witness this embarrassing moment. 

 

Alfred followed the principle into her office quickly, not willing to look up at the pair of green eyes surely watching him.

 

The days following Alfred couldn't stop thinking about the transfer student. He spent a lot of his free time in the open field behind his foster house, tossing a baseball high up in the air and catching it with his bare hands. His little brother stumbling behind, nose always stuck in a book.

 

For years at that point Alfred had been struggling with strange feelings that he couldn't quite explain. The obsessive interest in girls that the other boys felt, was sort of lost on him. He found them appealing and even dated many girls throughout his youth. But he sometime's found his eyes straying in the boys locker room. Or lingering a little longer on his shirtless school mates. But it wasn't until he saw the young English boy, that it had all become a little harder to deny.

 

But whatever these feelings, Alfred had one goal. To become friends with him no matter what! And when Alfred put his mind to it he could do anything.

 

“Oh it's you, the school delinquent.” That was the first sentence Arthur had ever said to him and it would always be burned into his memory. His condescending tone and the way he seemed to look down at Alfred despite the fact that he was a few inches taller. 

 

It wasn't how he had wanted their first conversation to start and he was worried that Arthur would reject him before giving him a chance. But as it turned out Arthur wasn't entirely as innocent as he seemed. 

 

He had a bit of a rebel streak under his prim and proper demeanor. All it took was a small dare or dismissal and Arthur was quick to prove his prowess. It was a fun and exciting game for the two of them. Where Alfred saw in Arthur the lighter cleaner side of the world, in turn Arthur saw the opposite. And they were both sort of drawn to it.

 

This was only in the beginning of their long and slow growing friendship. Alfred worked hard to be worthy of this golden boy that he wanted so bad. And Arthur, when he wasn't proving something, worked hard to mold him into a respectable young gentlemen. Alfred is painfully aware that the only reason he passed high school was because Arthur helped keep him on track with his classes and often helped him study late in the evenings. 

 

Arthurs parents were another story. They frankly didn't approved of this new found friendship. He could see it every time he showed up on their doorstep. In their eyes Alfred was the kid parents dreaded to let through their door. The town warned them he was a bad influence and a good for nothing jail bound lowlife. At least that's what Alfred over heard when he came down for a glass of water one day. 

 

Thankfully Arthur was privileged and completely adored by his parents. And much like a child that is given too much power, what he wanted he got. And he wanted to be with Alfred. So the parents put up with it. They didn't count on the American being a force of nature, and ultimately fell prey to his sometimes idiotic but infectious personality. Something about him just demanded to be loved. He just wouldn't take no for an answer. And to this day they still call him every so often to check up on him. They sort of became like his other other parents. And he'd always be grateful to them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm finding it harder and harder to edit these chapters lol. It's very difficult to read back and correct mistakes or know if the story makes sense or if it's rushed or if it's even any good. It's soooo hard. Anyway, I've made the decision to write a story so I'm just going to keep on going with it. Thanks again for reading, more chapters to come.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own it
> 
>  
> 
> Lol ok, ok. I think I got the hint from reading the reviews. I'm reintroducing Ivan in this chapter and I'll be reeling him in more from here on.

“See I told you we would make in time.” Alfred said, climbing out of Francis's little sports car.

“If you consider a half hour late to be on time, then I suppose so.” Arthur grumbled, snapping his jacket back into place.

Kiku slid out behind him looking a little sweaty. Alfred couldn't help but laugh.

Clapping the smaller man on the back he asked, “A little car sick buddy?”

“I think I will take the bus home...” He murmured, dabbing his temple with a small blue handkerchief.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders as they walked Alfred spoke into his ear. “Don't worry, Francis is bound to get drunk tonight. Then I'll be driving us back and you can sit shotgun.”

“Not in this life time.” Francis scoffed, slipping the keys in his pocket.

“There will be no alcoholic beverages served at the event.” Arthur recited like a well rehearsed robot.

“Aw nuts...” The American groaned kicking a small pebble in his path.

Walking up the pathway to the venue entrance, Alfred held open the door to allow his friends to proceed.

“So how many people are supposedly showing up to this thing.”

“Last I counted almost the whole graduating class, should be a nice turn out.” Arthur informed, pulling out a name tag from his pocket. “This way.”

They skipped the front desk and followed the signs labeled 'Graduating class of 2007' down a long hallway of doors.

“Just to the left there.” They stopped at a door with their school mascot taped to the outside, clear indication they found the right one. A large table next to the door was covered in small pieces of paper. “Look for your name tag, it's alphabetical.”

“Oh dumbass is under the letter D.” Francis teased, pointing Alfred in a different area.

“Har. Har. You know what else starts with the letter D? Desperate. Like what you see in the mirror every morning.” Alfred responded, slapping his name tag on to his shirt.

“Actually yours is under I for 'Infamous Letdown'.” Francis replied, carefully sticking his name tag to his breast pocket.

“Pretty sure yours is under U for 'Unnatural blonde'.” He fired back.

“Pretty sure yours is under E for 'Everyone gets a trophy and that's the only reason I have one'.”

Alfred floundered for a moment trying to think fast. “Well...yours is under N for 'Nobody thinks you're funny so fuck you'!”

“Mine was better.”

"Whatever..."

...........................

“Here you go.” Arthur said, handing him a cup of red liquid. They'd been mingling for an hour and Alfred was dying of thirst. 

“Thanks!” 

“You look nervous. Have any teachers found you yet?”

“Yes, Mr. Craigson found me.” Alfred pouted, rubbing his arm. “And he jabbed me really hard. Said it was payback for making him stay after class so many times. And I'm not nervous, this shirts just itchy.”

“You did make him stay after class an awful lot.”

"Meh." Alfred took a long drink of his fruit punch. “So did you have a hand in these decorations?”

“Well actually I only helped find the venue and send out the invites, but I did choose the color theme.” He said, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Alfred.” Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Turning around he startled a little. A girl, just inches shorter then Alfred's 5'6 height was standing right behind him. Her large fuchsia colored eyes were focused and unblinking.

“Hi...” He trailed off as he searched for a name tag but found none. Though she looked very familiar....

Her rounded face was the color of porcelain and her cheeks glowed with a pretty blush. Her name was on the tip of his tongue... 

“Hello Natalia.” Arthur supplied. “I'm surprised to see you here. I didn't think you'd make it, coming all the way from Russia.”

Hearing her name it all came flooding back.

Russian exchange student, Natalia Braginsky. The taunting and name calling. The fist fight he had in the hallway, and large watery eyes watching with grim satisfaction as Alfred pummeled another boy on the linoleum floor. She was the chubby girl he'd stood up for that day in ninth grade.

The one he'd always made a point to say hi to in the hall way. He'd also danced with her a few times during prom because no one else would. 

This girl before him resembled only slightly the girl he remembered. This girl was much thinner and wore her hair longer. She'd clearly grown into a beautiful young woman.

Alfred smiled genuinely. “Wow long time no see! Whatcha been up too since graduation?”

“You never wrote me like you said you would.” She continued as if he hadn't spoken.

Alfred and Arthur shared a look.

“Oh uhh, yeah...I must have forgotten.” He laughed, hiking up his shoulders.

Natalia didn't laugh or show much of an expression at all.

“I did not forget.” She said plainly. “But I forgive you.”  
“Uh thanks...” Alfred didn't know how to respond, being so cruelly put on the spot.

“Well! Arthur chirped. “Let's go join the rest of the group shall we?”

“Wait, you have not met my big brother, I want to introduce you.” Natalia insisted, snatching Alfred's arm with more force then he thought a girl her size could possess.

She lead him away without waiting for a response, leaving Arthur bristling where he stood. Alfred gestured to calm down. Despite her atrocious manners, Alfred was a nice guy, and he could give her a few minutes of his time.

“Uh hey Natalia, you don't need to drag me.” He said with a nervous laugh. “It's cool I'll come willingly.”

They approached the back of a broad shouldered man, sitting at one of the many round tables for guest to enjoy. He had pale hair and a thick double wound scarf around his neck which made Alfred take pause.

He was currently having a conversation with a mousy looking fellow who, from what Alfred could see, looked moderately terrified.

The Russian girl tugged on the large mans sleeve.

"Ivan!" Natalia snapped rather brattish, “Come and meet my American friend.”

As soon as the attention was off him, the frightened little man scurried off leaving his drink on the table, never looking back.

Her brother stood up to his full height and Alfred felt his heart start to race for a reason his mind hadn't completely placed yet. But as he turned Alfred almost crushed the cup in his tightened fist.

No...

Alfred cursed karma for being such a rotten bitch as the Russian from the bar now stood before him once again. He had traded in his grey blazer for a black one, and his tattooed hands were covered by gloves, but this was definitely the same man.

“Privet...” The greeting died on his lips as he took in Alfred's appearance.

Not sensing the shift in atmosphere, Natalia presented her sibling with an open palm. “This is my big brother, Ivan.”

Neither Alfred or Ivan seemed to have anything to say, as they just sized each other up. His mouth was hidden behind his scarf, but Alfred was sure he wasn't smiling now. His violet eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Fingers visibly twitching as if recalling what it felt like to sink them into Alfred's gut.

Natalia was looking at him expectantly. Alfred licked his lips before grounding out a simple hello.

Satisfied with this she turned eyes to Ivan. “This is the one I told you about. Al'fred.”

What she said seemed to shock him.

“This one?” He asked jabbing a thick gloved thumb in Alfred's direction.

“Da.”

"Nyet, on ne gey..."

Now it was her turn to look confused, then irritated in all of 3 seconds. “How would you know? Of course he is."

They went back and forth like this while Alfred stood by, collecting strange looks from other guests. He could feel a light perspiration develop on his skin as he tried to keep his cool.

Natalia suddenly stepped closer to him almost in a protect fashion. “My brother is being weird, don't listen to him.”

“No problem.” As if he could understand anything they were saying.

“Will you sit? I would like very much to visit with you.” When she peeked up at him now it was almost shy, and he realized she had the same type of disarming presence as her brother. 

“I would love to, but I have to get back to my other friends...” Natalia seemed to deflat, now looking upset. The first real emotion he saw on her face. He quickly added. “Maybe we can catch up a little later.”

Wanting to ignore her brother but not wanting to seem rude, he said a half hearted, “Nice to meet you.” Letting his eyes instead say what he couldn't. 'Asshole.' But the other man didn't seem offended or bothered, just confused.

…........................

“Great seeing you again!” Alfred repeated for the millionth time to another long lost classmate.

“My cheeks are starting to hurt...” He whined, plopping back down in his seat, rubbing at the muscles in his face.

Despite his resistance to attending, Alfred was actually having a decent time. It was kinda fun listening to other people tell stories about all the shit he use to do in school. And since their encounter, Natalia and her crazy brother hadn't com up to him again. In fact they hadn't left their table once. Alfred knew because he'd been side eyeing them almost the whole night. He'd never thought in a million years he'd run into that guy for a SECOND time.

“You must have had quite a reputation, Alfred.” Kiku remarked, reeling him back into conversation. "Everyone seems to know who you are."

Alfred laughed sheepishly. “I guess you could say that.”

“I don't think that was meant as a compliment.” Francis interjected, and Alfred ignored.

“A lot of people did wanted to be my friend, to be honest it's hard to remember them all.”

“Being so popular must be hard.” Arthur responded gulping down his punch like it was a shot of Jack Daniels. It seemed that ever since they sat down, the Englishman's mood slowly shift into a downward spiral. For someone who was so looking forward to this night, he was sure being a stick in the mud.

“Is that a touch of jealously I detect?” Francis asked, suddenly looking not so bored. “If I recall you weren't very liked in high school were you Arthur. After all you were voted 'Most likely to rain on your parade' in our year book.”

“Beg your pardon?” Arthur jumped on this like he was just waiting for the opportunity. “I'll have you know I was very well liked among the student council and faculty!”

Francis tittered, “I rest my case.”

“What about you, I don't see flocks of people coming up to you? The only thing you made an impression on was the vice principles desk while you shagged ol' whats her name!”

“Tch, you know I didn't move here until Junior year, so it was harder for me to make friends.” Francis pouted. “And must you always bring up the vice principles office? You're so predictable Arthur.”

“I told my blasted parents not to offer your father that job!” He continued as if nothing was said. “I thought I'd finally been free of you. Now here I'am ten years later still stuck with you.” He sounded severely depressed, before pushing up to his feet. “I'm going to get more punch...”

Alfred waited until Arthur was out of ear shot. “I know it's non of my business and all, but you shouldn't provoke him like that. It gets him all wound up..”

Francis looked frustrated suddenly. “If he responded to anything else I would.” He snapped, throwing his napkin on the table making his utensils clatter.

“Ook...” Alfred and Kiku met eyes briefly before changing the subject.

They engaged in idle chit chat, until Alfred began to feel a strange sensation in his gut. The hair on the back of his neck stood up on end and he had the weirdest feeling he was being watched. Instinctively his eyes looked toward Ivan's table and wasn't surprised to see him staring. He was sitting alone now, his hands folded in front of him. Alfred watched the Russian smile and give a come on over gesture. Son of a bitch.

“I'll be right back.” He muttered, before pushing his chair out.

Making quit work of the distance between them, Alfred now stood before him and asked, “You got something to say to me?”

“As a matter-a-fact I do.” He smiled that fucking smile that made Alfred want to punch him in the face again. “Won't you sit down?”

“No I will not sit down. What the hell do you want?”

“Very well. Now that my sister has stepped away, I want to clear up this...misunderstanding, we have between us.” He explained, gesturing to him.

An apology was the last thing he'd expected. But it changed nothing.

“I'm not following.” Alfred crossed his arms. “Are you speaking of the 'misunderstanding' in the mens bathroom? Where you threatened me, attacked me and ended up getting your ass handed to you. Is that the 'misunderstanding' you're referring?”

Alfred saw a tick in his cheek muscle and felt a sense of satisfaction from seeing that sweet mask crack a little.

“Yes.” Ivan continued calmly. “You see I was not myself that night at the bar...too much vodka. And I would hate for this small quarrel to reflect badly on Natalia. She thinks highly of you. You understand, don't you Mr. Jones?”

“Dude, why do you always sound like you're trying out for the next 007 movie villain?”

“Double-oh-seven...” Ivan formed the words with a clumsy tongue.

Alfred squinted at him. “Yeah. You know, Bond? James Bond?"

Ivan didn't react.

“How have you never heard - whatever. I'm not just going to let bygones be bygones because you want to feel better. Not after what you did.”

“I would say we are close to even. I punched you once, you punched me five times. That seems fair.”

“What kind of crazy medieval ideology is that?” Alfred sputtered, leaning his arms on the table. “This isn't Game Of Thrones.”

“The kind of ideology I thought you would interpret easily.” Ivan's smile never faltered. “And I am not playing any games.”

Alfred scoffed in disgust. “Do you not have cable in Russia? Game Of Thrones isn't - you know what doesn't matter.” He leaned a little closer. “Apology not accepted!”

Ivan giggled behind his scarf and Alfred goosebumps rise up on his arms. Then tilting his head to the side he said, “There is no need to throw tantrum, I am asking very politely.”

Alfred felt his cheeks heat up. “Screw you and screw your weak ass apology.”

He turned and left, saying what he needed to say. He felt better already. That was almost therapeutic.

When Alfred got back to his seat he spotted Natalia walking up to her brother, her purse and jacket now on. They exchanged a few words before she and Ivan walking off together. Presumably to the exit.

“Glad that's finally over. What a joke. Russian Mafia my ass...” Alfred cackled, taking a victory drink from his cup.

Francis suddenly looked concerned. “He is you know.”

Alfred spit his punch out all over the table. “Come again?”

“That was Natalia's older brother you were speaking to was it not?” Francis asked as if it was obvious. “I recognize him from school. He'd stop in every once in a while to check up on her. Everyone on campus knew her family was associated with the mob. There just wasn't any hard proof. Why do you think she never had any friends...didn't you ever hear the rumors?”

Alfred chewed his nail as he wracked his brain. “I-I don't remember!”

Francis turned to him fully. “You didn't say anything to piss him off did you?”

Alfred paused. “No.”

“You're lucky then. Only an idiot would cross the Braginsky family.”

Alfred chuckled dryly. “Right.”

'He was the worlds biggest idiot.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudo's and thank you for the encouragements guys! :) This chapter took FOREVER to edit and it still feels rushed, anyway. I'm going to try and get the next few chapters edited and posted soon. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own it

‘One o’clock already.'

Alfred picked up his hot chocolate to take a drink before setting it back down after inspection. Cold. He’d been on his computer for hours now. His eyes were burning and his back hurt.

If Ivan was part of an organized crime syndicate, there was no evidence to the claim...at least according to google.  

That didn't mean there was nothing to be discovered.  There was still plenty of suspicious activity to be found on the Briginsky family. Giving Alfred a pretty clear picture what kind of family Life Ivan had growing up.

Ivan's father, Mikhail, had an extensive history with the American judicial system. A lot of petty thievery and some money laundering accusations were just a few on a long list of charges.  Most of these cases didn’t seem to make it to court as they ended up settling privately.  Alfred could assume, after seeing pictures of private jets with Braginsky's name on it, he had the funds to buy himself out of any court date.

 

There were a number of public photographs that he'd saved to his desktop to look over.  Mostly newspaper articles of charity events and private auctions held in the Braginsky family mansion. 

After looking over the images, Alfred could see Ivan had an echoing resemblance to his father, but wasn’t a spitting image.  Mikhail had a significantly squarer jaw and smaller, more angular eyes.  His nose was strikingly and his cheek bones were high like Ivan’s but his face was far more pointed. He also had a thin mouth that didn't smile in any photograph Alfred had seen, and deep frown lines made him question if the man knew how.

 

It would appear his son also got his affinity for tattoos from his father. Alfred could see the markings on his fingers and a tease of dark ink just under his shirt collar.  

 

Alfred pulled forward a different image, and placed them side by side. This one was of a petite, doe-eyed young woman.  

 

Anya Braginsky, Ivan's late mother.

 

A Ukranian model with sweet smile that he was familiar with by now.  Her bright eyes with sweeping lashes peered up at the camera in a recognizable shade of violet.  Ivan got his physic from his father, but he got his mothers beautiful lips, eyes and hair color. Both her children greatly resemble her.  

Ivan probably wouldn't be considered handsome by most, his nose being a little too big and maybe a few pounds too heavy.  He had an allure that an artistic eye might be drawn to.  Alfred wasn't an artist, but he could appreciate a fine piece.  And he could recall, before the bathroom incident, that he'd been a bit smitten when he first laid eyes on him...

“Stop it.”  He scolded himself immediately. Not a path he needed to be frolicking down right now. This guy isn’t dating material. Not to mention he was 36. Almost ten years older then Alfred and he didn’t look a day over 20. It was creepy.

 

Alfred pulled up a newspaper clipping of a charity event hosted by Mrs. Braginsky. And in the image was a young Ivan and Natalia, both standing next to her. Shy smiles on their chubby faces, mothers dress clutched in their hands.  Though the picture was grainy in black and white he got the sense that they were happy here.

Alfred was very curious about Anya’s story and how she got tangled up with such a man. Her early passing was also a mystery he’d like to uncover, but there was no information to be found other then her day of passing.

Maximizing another image on his desktop he glanced over a photograph of Mikhail shaking hands with unknown man. The caption translated to 'Merger'.

But Alfred zoomed in on a figure in the background.  A blond boy Alfred identified as a preteen Ivan. It was quite a contrast to the image with his mother.  His hair was slick back like his fathers and he stood very straight, no smile on his face and Natalia was no where in sight.  Leaning in closer he searched his young face. 

Alfred wondered if his mother was already gone at this time. His face held a sort of sadness. Something in his eyes seemed detached- 

 

A crash from somewhere behind him had Alfred diving under his desk in fright. Objects dropped from above as he bonked his head on the way down. His eyes darted around the small space of his living room, looking for the Russian assassin that was there to silence him forever. 

Instead he saw Tony running around the corner to his bedroom while his potted plant lay tipped over on the floor.

 

He pressed a hand to his heart, then to his head to check from blood. “Ok it’s time for bed.”

 

…..............

Two weeks later...

 

“Keys. Keys! Where are my keys!?”  Alfred cried, flinging the blankets and pillows off the couch.

It was 08:30 already and he still needed to stop by the store for supplies.  

 

It was the first Wednesday of the month and he often visited the local orphanage with food and toys for the kiddos. And for added bonus if he got there before noon he’d be able to snag one of Ms. Bonnie's homemade chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen. Warm and gooey right out of the oven, she always left a few for him.

 

“Argh!”  Alfred cried in frustration, reaching deep in the cracks between the couch. 

 

Tony silently watched from his spot at the window as his owner took apart the living room furniture.  His long tail flicked playfully as a balled up sock rolled under this perch.

 

Alfred wiggled his fingers between the sectional and felt the long woven fabric of his lanyard.

 

“Ah ha!”

 

Fighting his way into a teeshirt he grabbed a coat and stepped out of the front door.  The morning sun wasn't quite warm enough to take the chill away, but Alfred still basked in it for a moment, enjoying a little extra vitamin D.  After all winter was coming and soon his golden tan was going to fade.

 

 Locking up behind him he pushed up his glasses and looked down the street for anything out of the ordinary.  Alfred had begun to get a little paranoid that he was being followed in the last week or so. 

He began to notice where ever he went there was a suspicious character lurking near by. Usually dressed in a suit and always on their phone.  And every once in a while he'd see a black car slowly making it's way down his street.  

 

He tried not to let his over active imagination or natural paranoia get the better of him. Because of his late night detective work he’d gotten a little jumpy.  He'd been doing extensive research on his new Russian adversary. And like most things he gets involved in, it becomes a small obsession until he has gather sufficient knowledge to sate his curiosity. His brother always said he was like a dog with a bone...until something new captures his attention.

 

Coast was clear. 

Suppressing a big yawn, Alfred stepped down from his stoop to the sidewalk and headed in the direction of the main road.  He awoke that morning with a strong need for coffee, only to find his coffee drawer empty.  Again.  Now he had to go to spend an outrageous amount of money at Starbucks to satisfy his caffeine addition.  Then once that was taken care of he could focus on the days tasks.

 

As he traversed the neighborhood, sounds of leaf blowers and children playing made up the perfect soundtrack to a beautiful fall morning.  He smiled and waved to kids and pet every dog he came in contact with.  Neighbors knew him by name and made pleasant small talk as he strolled by. 

 

As soon as Alfred made it to the main road he quickly jaywalked across the street before the light turned green and hopped the curb in front of his destination.

 

Opening the glass door he was blasted with the smell of roasting java.  His mouth watered.  He got in line behind seven other people still waiting to give their order, and suppressed a groan.  It was always so damn busy every time he came here.  Alfred abhorred waiting.  It was in the top five things he hated the most.  Next to candy corn, and alarm clocks, and plain pop tarts with no frosting...

 

Pulling out his phone from his back pocket he scrolled through his contacts stopping at Arthurs name.  He lingered but decided to keep going down the list.  He hadn't heard from the Englishman for a few days and figured he was giving Alfred the space he'd asked for.  He chose Mathew's name instead and sent him a text hoping for a distraction.  

 

Last he spoke to him he was making arrangements to come visit for the holiday's.  He'd been living up in Canada for the past two year studying whale migrations or something.  Alfred had a hard time keeping track, his brother always seemed to be doing something different every time they spoke.    From what Alfred gathered he seemed to really love the little town he resided in.  Even hinted at finding a permanent residence there.  Alfred was happy for him.

 

His phone chimed with a message notification.

 

'What do you think I'm doing, stupid.  It's 6 in the morning, text me in 3 hours.'

 

“Pfft you're stupid.”  He groused.  The lady in front of him turned her head to give him a look.  

 

“Sorry...”  He muttered, pushing up his glasses.

 

As he continued to search his phone for something to do, someone got in line behind him casting a large shadow.  They stood so close Alfred could almost feel this person stepping on the back of his heels.  Annoyed he shuffled forward a bit to give the them more space.

 

Opening up a mindless game on his phone he began playing.  But over the next few minutes an increasing sense of irritation began to build in his gut.  The shadow behind him kept getting closer and closer until again he felt like the backs of his heels were going to get stepped on.  Alfred could practically feel breath on the back of his neck.  

 

“That looks fun.”

 

Alfred jumped with a shriek as the man known as Ivan Braginsky smiled down at him from over his shoulder.

 

“Ivan!”  Alfred exclaimed, instantaneously feeling a sheen of sweat form in his skin.  “What-what are you doing here?”

 

Ivan straightened back up.  “Well, that is a funny story.  I saw this nice shop and thought I would stop in for a coffee.”

 

Alfred waited for the funny, but he didn't say anything else.

 

“Right...”  

 

“What a nice coincidence you are here as well.  Do you come here often?”

 

Eye's squinting in disbelief Alfred asked,  “Do you expect me to believe this is just chance that we both ended up here at the same time?  I haven't seen my next door neighbor in a year but some how I've managed to see you three times in less then a month.  There's something wrong with this picture.”

 

“Yes, I'am very surprised myself.”

 

“Yeah, I don't think you are.”  Not beating around the bush he said, “Because I know you've been following me.”

 

“Next please.”

 

“Following you?  That is impossible, how could I be following you, Al'fred.” 

 

“Sir, are you ready?”

 

Alfred spun around and approached the barista, clearly flustered.  “Uh yeah sorry.”

 

'What in the actual fuck?'

 

“What can I get for you today?”   The woman asked, but before he could even utter a word someone lightly bumped into him from behind.

 

“Privet, we will both take two of....that. In your biggest size.”  A large, black gloved hand pointed up at a whip cream covered something and Alfred turned with his mouth slightly agape.  But Ivan didn't meet Alfred's gaze, just patted him on the shoulder as if too say 'don't worry buddy I'll pay.' 

 

“For here or to go?”  The woman looked between them a moment, clearly confused.

 

“For here.”  The Russian answered, handing her a shiny black credit card between his two fingers.

 

“What do you think you're doing?”  Alfred ground out under his breath as the lady readied their order.

 

“Making apology.”  He took his card and receipt from the cashier, folding up the piece of paper in a perfect square before tucking it into his wallet.

 

“Name?”  The woman asked poised with a pen.

 

“Ivan.”  The Russian answered before ushering a grave looking Alfred out of the way so the next person could put in their order.

 

When they made it to a quiet corner Alfred rounded on him, grabbing the front of Ivan's black sweatshirt.  “What the hell is this?”  

 

The Russian didn't put up a fight.  “What do you mean? It is just good luck that I found you here.  I never got to finish saying sorry the other night and I'am very happy to have the opportunity now.”  His smile never faltered, even with his shirt still clenched in Alfred's fist.  

 

“Bullshit.”  The American looked around them.  “Where are your goons, I know you've have them watching my house.”

 

“You are sounding a little paranoid Al'fred.  It is just you and I here.  And like I said, I hope you will accept my apology this time.”

 

“How's that an apology?  You ordered me a coffee I didn't even want.”

 

With a confused look Ivan said, “I assumed you would like that one since it was the most expensive and had the most shit on top.”  Flourishing his hand to emphasize.  “You American's love to waste money on such things.”

 

'Unbelievable.'

 

Alfred released his sweater in disgust.  “Wow ok, you want to play the stereotype game? Aren't Russian's nothing but a bunch of chain smoking, drunken, violent lunatics that can't figure out what a damn turn signal is used for?  Yeah I've seen all those Russian dash cam video's on youtube.  You guys are the worst driver's on the face of this planet!”

 

Ivan was clearly lost in translation and couldn't keep up with his fast talk.  He looked for a moment almost nervous.

 

“Yootoob...”  He tried to repeat, drawing out the syllables unnecessarily.  “You speak very quickly...I’am afraid, my English is not as good.”

 

“Don't care.  Apology still not accepted, so stop keeping tags on me, or I'll call the cops and tell them there's a fucking communist stalking me!”

 

“Ivan!”  Their order was called and drinks were set out for pick up.

 

“Thank god.”  Alfred breathed, swiping his coffee off the counter.  “Seriously, stop following me or I'll kick your ass.”  He ignored Ivan's confused look as he passed him for the exit. 

 

When he broke out into the cool weather Alfred was pretty sure at this point that he got himself in some serious trouble.  After this encounter Alfred vowed to stop his investigations in the Braginsky name.  He really was on Ivan's radar and it wasn't just in his imagination.  Hopefully he scared him off by threatening the cops. 

The thought comforted him for a moment until he heard heavy foot steps fall in pace with his own.  He refused to look.

 

“You forgot we were drinking coffee there.”  Alfred could see in his peripherals Ivan was motioning behind them.  “But this is a-okay! We can drink outside, I like sun shine.”

 

Alfred stomped a little faster.  “I'm going home.”  He said plainly. 

 

“We will drink at your house then. This is fine too.”

 

Alfred laughed though it lacked real humor.  He stopped and sharply turned.  

 

“No, no, no. I'm going home,” He explained slowly pointing toward himself, then put his finger in the other mans chest. “You, you are going somewhere else – I don't care where.”  Then kept walking.  But it wasn't long before the clicking of shoes caught up and he was in step with him again.

 

“I will walk you.”

 

Alfred grit his teeth. “You got selective hearing or something?”  He snapped.  “I want nothing to do with you.”

 

A cold leather hand grabbed his arm and spun him around, almost causing his glasses to slip from his face.  

 

“Is that so?”  Ivan's face and actions spoke different languages as that sweet smile and tight grip didn't match.  “I would almost believe that if you had not been searching for me on the internet until early morning.”

 

Alfred gasped before he could stop himself.  He lost his voice for a moment and had to collect himself before speaking.  “How the hell do you know that?”

 

Ivan stepped closer to him, pulling his arm in until they were toe to toe.  He was so close Alfred could smell a hint of cigarette's and catch a small glimpse of a black object strapped to the mans side.  The Americans stomach clenched in fear. 

 

Ivan didn't seem to notice or didn't care that he'd seen.  “There is a saying, do not ask questions you are not prepared to get answers for.”

 

Alfred jumped between his eyes searching for intent.  “Is that some kind of threat?”  

 

Ivan smiled wider, turning that sweet smile almost manic. “If I were threatening, you would not be asking.”

 

People on the side walk stepped around them with inquisitive stares, but no one stopped to interfere.  Speaking in a low tone Alfred demanded.  “Then get your damn hands off of me.”

 

“If I do that you will run away from me again.”  Ivan said this as if Alfred were being unreasonable.

 

“If you have to hold people hostage to keep them from running away from you then maybe you need to do some serious self evaluation.”  Alfred cut his gaze to grip on his arm as it tightened then loosened a bit.  He could fight him, but at this point he didn't know if it would be wise to piss off the Russian mobster with a gun under his jacket.  “Also if you haven't noticed, you are drawing a lot of attention.”

 

For the first time, Ivan seemed to notice the passerby's and the small group of people at the bus stop that were watching them.  He stepped back to put a little space between them.  “Perhaps you are correct, here is not the best place to discuss such business.  We will continue this over breakfast.  I know a good restaurant near by I think you will like.”

 

Before Alfred could piece together a usable response, a black car pulled up beside them, which he recognized as the one prowling his neighborhood.  Both Alfred and Ivan turned to the reflective driver window, it revealed his sallow face and Ivan's expression, which for a split second looked irritated.

 

The glass rolled down with a soft hum to reveal a man in a dark suit.  

 

“Why are you bothering me?”  Ivan asked in his deceptively cloying voice. The man replied something in his native tongue to which Ivan seemed to absorb.  

 

A nod in response had the window rolling back up and Alfred's attention was once more on the Russian.

 

“Unfortunately Al'fred, I have to cancel our date.”  He explained, straightening out Alfred's shirt and jacket much like Arthur would do.  “Perhaps we can reschedule for another day.  Do not worry I know how to find you.”  He patted him on the shoulder almost making him drop his drink.

 

Alfred just stood there as Ivan pulled away from him and got in the back seat.  He continued to stand there as they drove off down the road and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait! I had a baby and she demands all my time and energy! XD I read through this chapter pretty quick hope there’s no big mistakes! Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own it

Ivan tapped a finger on his leather steering wheel. Waiting for movement from the small blue house across the street. 

 

He’d been there long enough to witness the sunrise and the first neighbor to emerge from their home. 

 

The rest of the neighborhood began to stir not long after. 

 

Soon working mothers were out wrangling children into car seats, while blue collar workers were leaving for early morning shifts. Young people walking the sidewalks in coats and mittens, laughed and goofed around as they made their way to the bus stop at the corner.

 

The only resident he hadn’t seen yet was Alfred.

 

Shifting back the sleeve of his shirt he checked his watch. 

 

Ivan expected Alfred any moment now, it was Monday again and he had work at 7 o’clock. But like every Monday he was running late.

 

It would be reasonable to say that Ivan had little to no tolerance for tartiness. He was taught from a young age, that a mans time is never to be disrespected. Whether it was his own or someone else’s. 

 

Alfred it seemed, lived by the opposite philosophy. He seems to never be on time for anything and was always rushing from one place to another. 

 

Ivan would know, he’d been watching him for some time now. 

 

Since their last encounter did not go as smoothly as he anticipated, he wanted to let some time pass before his next attempt. He’d be flying back to his home land soon and it didn’t feel right not to say good bye before he did. After all he didn’t know when he’d be returning to the states. 

 

Of course his lack of presence and interest in Natalia’s daily exploits had garnished the attention of his little sister. It didn’t take her long to confront him.

 

Ivan had been woken early one morning, when his door was almost broken off the hinges. 

...........

 

‘Vanya!’

 

He sat up in bed quickly, hand reaching for his gun on the night stand. When he saw it was his little sister he fell back against the pillows with an exhausted sigh. 

 

‘Sistra,’ He grumbled half asleep already. ‘Be careful with the door, it is a hotel precious. We have to pay double for repairs here.’

 

‘Where were you last night? I waited up for you until midnight!’ She demanded, now standing next to his bed.

 

Ivan rolled away from her. ‘I was out with some friends.’

 

‘You do not have friends brother. I’am your only friend. Where were you?’

 

Accepting now that he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep, Ivan drew back the covers and sat at the edge of his bed. Rubbing his face in exhaustion, he considered making up a lie, but knew his little sister could sniff out falsehoods. 

 

He really shouldn’t have stayed out so late but Alfred’s living room blinds where open that night and he was playing video games again. 

 

Ivan likes watching him yell at the television or dance around when something pleased him. 

 

He stood up on creaking legs and walked to his wardrobe, Natalia followed close behind. 

 

‘Well? Are you going to tell me?’ She asked as he pulled on a clean shirt.

 

‘I’am sorry, I have been neglecting you. Let us go down town tonight, we can ride in the horse carriages you love so much. And you can wear the pretty dress you bought with the flowers on it.’ He tried to dodge the question as he left the room but she followed still. 

 

Ivan swiped his cigarettes off the kitchen counter where he’d left them and indulged in a morning smoke.

 

‘If you do not tell me where you were last night I will never play the piano for you again!’ She threatened, grabbing him by the arm.

 

He quickly put out the flame of his lighter less she get burned and set it down with more force then he meant. He looked down her with a smile of fleeting patience. 

 

Natalia backed off a step, but showed no fear. His sister would use every dirty trick to get her way. She knew how to bend him to her will. He was simply unable to deny her.

 

‘Fine. I will tell you then.’ He conceded, taking a drag. 

 

‘I have been hiding something from you...about your American friend, Al’fred.’ He confessed through a cloud of smoke.

 

Her face revealed how unforeseen that statement was. 

 

‘What about Al’fred?’ She asked slowly. 

 

‘That night at your reunion was not the first time we met.’ He flicked ash into the sink. ‘By chance, we crossed paths at a bar, and there was an altercation. I did not want you to know. I did not want you to be upset with me.’

 

He noted the lack of response and prepared for an explosion, but then she came close and he felt her small delicate arms wrap around his mid section.

 

‘I am not upset. It was a mistake, you can clear your conscious. I’am sure Alfred has forgotten about it by now.’

 

He laid a cold hand on her soft hair and said, ‘I...have pursued him again outside of your company.’

 

He felt her tense, before slipping away from under his touch, her features turning reticent then almost fearful.

 

‘Why?’

 

‘I wanted to speak with him again.’

 

‘’Is that where you were last night?’

 

‘Da.’

 

She stepped toward him again quickly smoothing out the front of his shirt. 

 

‘Al’fred is my friend, he is a good person. I’am sure whatever happened that night can be forgiven, da?’ Her behavior confused him until he realized she was afraid for the man.

 

‘It is not what you think. I do not have any intention of hurting him. Quite the opposite in fact.’ He assured, leaning back against the kitchen counter in a relaxed manner. She seemed to visibly settle. ‘He does not care very much for me still, so I have been watching from a distance. But I hope to change that soon.’

 

‘I have never known you to speak like this...’ Natalia’s expression showed uncertainty. ‘Are you...interested in Al’fred?’

 

Ivan pinched her cheek affectionately. ‘It is too complicated an answer for such a simple question...’

.........

 

Ivan went to check his watch again when the man finally emerged from his home, but it was more like burst out the door. 

 

Ivan click his tongue in annoyance as Alfred ran to his car, a coat only halfway on and a piece of toast hanging from his mouth. He was juggling a bag and both his shoes, his feet only clad in socks. 

 

Alfred opened his car door and seemed to just dump everything inside. 

 

To Ivans surprise the American jumped into the drivers seat and started backing out of the driveway. Did he forget to lock his front door? Ivan was sure he didn’t see him do it.

 

Alfred sped down the street and around the corner leaving white clouds of vapor in his wake.

 

When five minutes passed and there was no sign of his returning, Ivan took his car out of park and headed a little further down the road.

 

Positioning his car next to the curb a few houses away, Ivan walked up the sidewalk to Alfred’s front door. 

 

He felt a little thrill of excitement when he grabbed the door handle and it gave way.

 

Not to look suspect he quickly stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind him, turning the lock in place. He listened for a moment but the house was dead silent. 

 

As he stood in the entry something was becoming apparent. 

 

Ivan sniffed the air as he looked around his immediate area. Just beyond the smell of burnt toast and coffee there was an underlining stench of something passed its due date. 

 

He nudged a stack of empty pizza boxes next to his foot. He’d seen these delivered often, but wasn’t sure if the smell was emanating from here or somewhere further in.

 

Ivan entered the main living area where it seemed to be emanating to find dirty dishes filled the sink and the garbage can was almost over flowing with old food wrappers and empty drink containers. 

 

“How very irresponsible.” He began to remove his gloves, feeling no need for them inside. “Though I cannot say I am surprised.”

 

Light pressure around his legs rocked him back in alarm. A small grey cat was curling itself around his ankles leaving a trail of hair in its wake.

 

Ivan bent down to stroke the backs of his fingers along the soft short fur of Alfred’s pet. 

 

“What is your name?” He asked, looking for a collar but finding none. “I guess I will have to call you Kiska. I’am going to be looking around a bit, but do not worry. I will be no trouble.”

 

Ivan straightened back up, pocketing his gloves only to faltered slightly.

 

“Derr`mo.” He cursed under his breath, taking a little pressure off his right leg. “Useless knee.” 

 

He squeezed the sore joint as an old injury acted up. It seemed to happen more often these days, especially in the colder months.

 

Walking it off as he strolled around the kitchen. Opening the fridge he found beer and a paper bag soaked in grease.

 

“Kiska, why is your owner such a fucking slob?” He asked, slamming the refrigerator door. 

 

The cat didn’t seem bothered as he leapt up on his favorite window sill. Ivan had seen him in that window many times before, looking out at the street.

 

Abandoning the kitchen area Ivan ventured toward a long hallway, intrigued by a wall covered in photographs. 

 

He slowly drifted along the collage of memories, taking his time, until one caught his interest. He stopped to lift the picture off its nail. 

 

Alfred was preforming for the camera, smiling with a group of friends on a beach. He was glowing with a golden tan, hair shining bright in the sun, sunglasses on his face. 

 

Not for the first time, Ivan thought it a shame.

 

Alfred’s facet was wasted on the common people. He would easily blend in amongst the beautiful, and famous. Envied and adored by his fans...

 

But yet at the same time would look at home in a barn, working up a sweat shoveling hay. Or perhaps knocking on your door to sell you some useless product that you buy ten of.

 

That all American boyish charm could go many ways. 

 

Unfortunately it was over shadowed by the unpleasantness that emanates whenever he speaks.

 

The things that Ivan let him get away with surprised even himself. 

 

Would he call it bravery? Defiance? Stupidity?

 

Whatever it was, Ivan wanted desperately to crush that grit under this thumb. 

 

The thin wood of the frame creaked as Ivan flexed his hands in anger.

 

The caliginous part of his mind, that creeping darkness that lay waiting at any given moment, began to stir. 

 

Something about this American just got under his skin.

 

More recently, at night while he drifted between his subconscious thoughts and dreams, he imagined what that strong jaw would look like, gripped in his bare hand. 

 

Teeth bared after a merciless, well deserved beating. Ivan the winner and Alfred begging for forgiveness. The sweet moment of complete and utter surrender was enough to warm even Ivan’s cold heart. 

 

But then in the same moment he imagines sitting with him in conversation. Or sharing a meal at his kitchen table. Simple moments of comradeship one would get in average, everyday situations. Ivan didn’t indulge nor did he have anyone to share such moments with. And he’d never really had any interest...until now. 

 

This confused and frustrated him as he tried to make sense of it. 

 

He thought perhaps it came from this feeling of admiration he had for this American. Very few men had the balls to stand up to him. Alfred did this not once but multiple times.

 

And there was something in the Americans eyes that has bewitched him. A sort of ruthless cold that Ivan saw every time he rose up to challenge him. 

 

It was something he himself could identify with. Something he recognized in his own eyes when he looked just below the surface.

 

If only he could make up his mind on whether he wanted to torture him or give him whatever he desired for token of forgiveness. 

 

Only Alfred wasn’t so receptive to his acts of generosity or sincere apologies...

 

A soft creaking sound turned his head and he saw a door ajar with a grey tail slipping inside. 

 

Ivan hung the picture back where it belonged. 

 

Coming to a stop at the end of the hall Ivan pushed the opening further with his finger tips and watched the door slowly swing inward. 

 

Just as he suspected. Messy. 

 

Alfred’s master bedroom was a chaotic disarray of clothes, school books, and stacks of video game and movie cases.

 

Obviously Al’fred had been looking for something specific this morning as garments were strewn about the room in a frantic fashion and his drawers were hanging open almost completely empty. It was all too clear now why he was constantly late for everything. How could anyone find anything in such a mess.

 

Ivan made a path to the center of the room and frowned. He didn’t know if this was a place for a grown man or a juvenile. 

 

The walls were covered in posters of giant robots, futuristic space ships and scantly dressed cartoon women with brightly colored hair. 

 

The shelves and dresser were cluttered with toys and books, none of which were familiar to him.

 

Ivan noted with annoyance a second big screen TV set up in here as well.

 

“How many Televisions does a person need...”

 

Al’fred’s comforter was an obnoxious replica of the nations flag. But it was a red, white, and blue crumpled up mess at the foot of the mattress. 

 

Ivan shifted over a basket of tangled up cables with his foot and took a seat on Alfred’s unmade bed. 

 

The smell of the Americans shampoo and whatever brand soap he preferred, kicked up from the pillow and blankets. Ivan allowed his eyes to close for a moment. He liked this scent more and more. 

 

His attention turned to a small bedside table with a lamp and framed photograph on top. He turned the face of the frame so he could see properly. 

 

Alfred stood next to a young man that Ivan identify as a relative. Most likely brother with how strikingly similar they looked, and he was in many of the photographs out in the hallway.

 

Ivan’s hand left the frame to then pull open the small drawer underneath. Something rattled inside. Ivan leaned over to see a tattered, heavily handled book and a worn down pencil. 

 

He picked it up and flipped open to the middle crease. Alfred’s untidy pencil scribblings filled the page. A journal. 

 

‘...another fight and now we haven’t spoken in weeks. I miss him.’

 

‘...he expects so much from me. He makes me feel like a disappointment. But I still love him.’

 

“Hm.” Ivan hummed to himself as he flipped through a few more pages.

 

‘...tossing and turning for hours. I had a nightmare about my father last night and I’m afraid to fall asleep...’

 

‘...Sometimes I️ find myself feeling so angry and I️ wonder if I’m turning into him.’

 

Ivan flipped some more until he found something more recent. 

 

‘I’ve discovered some troubling information on this Ivan creep...I may have gotten myself into some serious shit here...’

 

‘...I think I’m being followed. I’ve stopped all my research on my Russian adversary. He’s been watching my house I’m sure of it...’

 

‘...fuck this psychopath! I’m keeping my Mosberg 500 under my pillow tonight! I dare him to try anything. If he comes anywhere near my house again I’ll shoot him grave yard dead, I swear to god!’

 

Ivan reread the passage then softly closed the journal and placed it back in the drawer where he found it.

 

He looked down beside him at the two pillows propped up against the head board. 

 

Cautiously slipping a hand underneath he touched something hard. Grasping it, Ivan pulled out a large, pump action shotgun. 

 

The safety was off and when he opened the chamber he found a live round inside.

 

“Crazy fucking American.” Ivan then grinned in sheer amusement. “I can tell you will never bore me Al’fred...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the nice comments guys! I’m still trying to find time to write! I already have the next chapter done I’m just editing which takes up the majority of the time. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes, I do my best! Thanks for reading! :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own it.

Alfred hopped up the front steps of his home, whistling the tail end of a melody he’d had in his head all day. 

 

He couldn’t wait to just sit down and play some Xbox. Blowing shit up in Call Of Duty was the perfect way to wind down after an arduous shift.

 

Shaking out his keys he chose the right one to unlocked his front door. 

 

Shutting out the cold and the days stresses behind him Alfred let the comfort of home unburden him.

 

“Tony I’m home.” He toed his shoes off in the dark entryway, and shimmied out of his thick coat. Expecting to see his cat running to greet him, Alfred was puzzled when he didn’t appear. 

 

“Tony?”

 

Hanging his coat up, he hesitated. There was a soft light emanating from the living room. One that Alfred didn’t remember leaving on. 

 

Then again, maybe in his rush to get out the door he forgot to turn it off. Wouldn’t be the first time. 

 

When his feet touched the tile floor of his kitchen, he flipped the big over head light switch...And was extremely confused by a clean, organized kitchen. The dirty dishes were gone and his garbage had been taken out. 

 

“What in the-“

 

“Good evening Al’fred.” 

 

He screamed, slipping a little as he spun around too fast.

 

Like something out of The Godfather, there sat Ivan. Cool and composed, occupying his living room recliner.

 

“How was your day?” He inquired, eyes downcast on an open book, chin resting against his hand. 

 

Tony’s whereabouts no longer a mystery as Alfred could see him lounging next to Ivan’s elbow. 

 

“What the hell are you doing in my house?!” Alfred demanded, rounding his kitchen counter.

 

Ivan finally glanced up, but only for a brief smile. 

 

“I have been waiting patiently for you to come home.” He explained, turning a page of his reading material. “By the way, in what context do you say taking a rain check. Your American idioms are very amusing...”

 

Ivan continued rambling but Alfred was already halfway across the room. 

 

He ripped the book from Ivan’s lap, whipping it behind him. He heard the pages flutter and the thump of impact somewhere to his left. 

 

“Get out, first warning.”

 

The Russian folded his hands on his lap and looked up with delectation. 

 

“Forgive me. I was not ignoring you Al’fred.”

 

He opened his mouth to argue that statement but decided not to engage. 

 

“Final warning.” He said, walking toward his bedroom. “Get out or else!”

 

“If you are going to threaten me with your big gun, I found it first.” Alfred slowed to a stop. “You really should not have a loaded weapon under your pillow. It is very unsafe.”

 

Spinning around Alfred yelled, “I wouldn’t need a gun under my pillow if you’d stop harassing me! And how the hell did you get in anyway!?”

 

“Through the front door.” He pointed. “You forgot to lock it after leaving this morning. Do not worry I kept your house safe for you. And I fed your kiska.” He informed, scratching Tony under his chin.

 

Alfred coughed out a laugh at the sheer audacity. 

 

“Now that you are home I would like to take you out for a drink so we can continue our earlier conversation. After all we have a,” He paused. “Rain checked date.”

 

Practically shaking Alfred ground out, “It’s just ‘rain check’, and I don’t want to get drinks with you.”

 

“Why?”

 

Alfred cupped both hands around his mouth. “Because I don’t like you!”

 

Ivan’s smile seemed to be frozen on his face. “You say such things as if it does not hurt my feelings.”

 

“What feelings? You’re a fucking robot!”

 

Alfred heard Ivan take a deep breath through his nose and watched his fingers flex slightly. “Oh how I enjoy these cute little names you make up for me..”

 

“Yeah I bet you do. Get the hell out now or I’ll call the cops.” 

 

“Go ahead.” He dared. “I️ had a poker game with your chief of police two nights ago and he still owes me fifty dollars. So you would be doing me a favor.”

 

Clenching his fists Alfred demanded, “What is it that you want dammit!?” 

 

“I already told you. I want to take you out for a drink and just hang out.”

 

Alfred squinted his eyes at the phrase ‘hang out’ coming from the Russians mouth. 

 

“No one trespasses into someone’s house just to have drinks and hang out. Let’s cut the crap, we both know who you are and what you do. So I ask again what do you want with me really?”

 

“Are you going to make me repeat myself three times?” Ivan asked, the tapping of his finger the only outward sign he might be a annoyed. “Because it is a pet peeving of mine.”

 

“Fine fuck it! I’m just going to do what I should have done in the first place and kick your ass.” Alfred cracked his knuckles against his palm. “I’ve been dying for round two anyway.”

 

“I do not want to fight you Al’fred. There is no longer any need for violence between us.” Ivan claimed, getting up from the chair. 

 

Alfred had never seen the Russian with so little attire. Clad only in a black long sleeve shirt and slacks. 

 

If he was hoping perhaps the extra layers filled in for lack of bulk he was sorely mistaken. Ivan was a big boy. In stature and muscle. 

 

Just a bigger target he thought to himself, rolling his shoulders...

 

Alfred watched him approach, stopping just a few few away. “Let us shake hands and be friends now.”

 

Ivan barely finished his sentence before Alfred sunk his fist into the mans stomach. He felt the muscles spasm around his knuckles with satisfaction. 

 

Ivan stumbled a step or two grunting in discomfort. He doubled halfway over but didn’t fall, much to Alfred’s irritation. 

 

“Pay backs a bitch isn’t it?” He smirked. “And there’s more where that came from, so let’s go.”

 

Ivan straightened out slowly, pressing a hand to his abdomen. The Russians smile had completely vanished as he pushed up the sleeves of his shirt. “If you insist..then I will oblige...” 

 

Alfred was momentarily distracted as his eyes traveled over paths of dark inked tattoos and the raised dusky flesh of thickened scar tissue. And there were a lot.

 

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered. And it was just how he imagined. Ugly and strangely beautiful and absolutely terrifying to behold.

 

Much like Ivan himself, he thought. 

 

Strangely beautiful yet terrifying.

 

“I can see fighting etiquette does not apply tonight.” The other man concluded, drawing Alfred back from a dangerous train of thought. 

 

“I figure it’s same rules as last time, or have you forgotten how dirty you fought.” 

 

“I have not forgotten. The memory of you on your knees is something I think about often.”

 

Alfred didn’t get embarrassed easily, but he could feel his cheeks warm just a little. 

 

“Dude...you should really listen to some of the shit that comes out of your mouth sometimes...”

 

As they now faced each other, something white caught Alfred’s eye. Something around Ivan’s neck he hadn’t noticed in the poor lighting. 

 

“Wassat?” Alfred provoked, pointing his chin at a swathing of gauzy bandages. “Tattoo regret?”

 

Ivan touched the wrapping like it was a noose. 

 

“That is funny.” He said, though he didn’t show any outward sign of humor. “But it is no tattoo. I would show you, but I’am afraid it would only give you nightmares.”

 

“Whatever.” Alfred squared up. “You gunna fight me or just stand there like a-“

 

Ivan gave no warning and surprised him with a left hook.

 

It clipped him in the chin, throwing his balance for a brief moment. Driven mostly by instinct Alfred ducked in time for Ivan to swing at empty air.

 

His opponent was incredibly light footed for his size as he reared back and out of reach from Alfred’s upward counter swing. 

 

They danced like this for a bit, both fighting for the upper hand, but neither actually gaining it. He had never been more grateful for Texas insulation as he was then. Surely the neighbors would have called the cops by now. 

 

A broken lamp and a few shattered picture frames showed their path of destruction as they made toward his kitchen. 

 

Alfred wiped a trail of sweat running down his temple. And cursed his own weakness. 

 

Fatigue was kicking in. He was sluggish. 

 

Probably from lack of sleep the night before and having just finished a twelve hour shift. He wasn’t in peak condition for this. 

 

Ivan wasn’t looking much better though, Alfred could see the way he struggled to catch his breath. 

 

“Are you getting tired Sergei Kobozev?” Ivan huffed, flexing his right hand. 

 

“What the hell did you call me?”

 

“I’am just saying, maybe you need a break.”

 

Alfred touched his stinging chin checking for blood, but found none.

 

“Kiss my ass, commie. I’m not taking a break just because you’re about to keel over.” Alfred provoked missing the shadow that passed over the Russians face. “I could do this all night.”

 

“The way you speak to me, I cannot figure out if you are unintelligent or if you have balls of steel. That arrogance of yours will get you into trouble, Al’fred.”

 

“You’re going to lecture me on arrogance?“ Alfred broke out in an airy laugh. “I’ve never met someone so full of himself! You might be some hotshot in Russia, but this is America, my turf. You think you’re such a badass gangster, fuck you! You think you can scare me -”

 

Ivan’s arm shot across the distance between them with surprising speed sealing his mouth with a large cold hand.

 

Alfred’s shout was muffled as his feet squeaked along the tile floor. 

 

He was forced backward until he hit the jutting edge of his kitchen island, knees knocked into Ivan’s as his toes stretched to stay grounded.

 

He seized Ivan’s wrist and twisted his fingers into the Russians shirt as his back bowed over granite. 

 

Alfred sucked in a sharp breath as Ivan leaned in close, gripping the back of his neck with icy fingers, holding him prisoner. 

 

“You have such a filthy fucking mouth, Amerikanskiy.” The Russian muttered close to the contour of his jaw, stirring the hair around his ear. Goosebumps immediately erupted along his arms and legs. Blood rushed to his face as the sound of his pounding heart filled his ears. 

 

It was an explosive, irrepressible reaction that Alfred wanted to close himself off from.

 

“Why do you say such things to provoke me when I’am trying very hard to be nice?” Ivan tilted his face until Alfred felt the cool skin of his cheek brush against his own. “Do you want me to behave like this?” 

 

Alfred’s breathing was loud as he tried to get enough air to fill his lungs.

 

Ivan was in no hurry as he pulled back slowly, the tip of his nose just barely disturbing the small hairs along his cheek bone. 

 

He didn’t stray far, looming close enough for Alfred to count the flecks of dark purple in his iris. 

 

“Since it does not look like you will sit down with me civilly, maybe now I will take the time to explain a few things.” He spoke in a soft pacifying way, but there was a fire simmering just under the surface. 

 

“You said you know who I’am but you have never given me the chance to say otherwise. Let me be straightforward, I give not a FUCK about the family business. We had as you say in America a ‘falling out’ years ago. I barely speak to that side of my family. So I do what I want to do now.”

 

Coming to his senses Alfred began to fight back, jerking his head and digging his nails into the exposed flesh of Ivans arm.

 

The Russian proved stronger, forcing him down until his back touched the cold stone. Alfred called him every dirty name he could think of against the palm of his hand. 

 

“Stop fighting me!” Ivan almost pleaded now, grabbing one of Alfred’s swinging fists. “This cannot be worse then being my friend.”

 

When Alfred wouldn’t stop, Ivan eventually let go, releasing his hold. 

 

The American immediately sat up to shove him away and he stumbled back without resistance. 

 

Pressing a hand to his sore mouth, Alfred fixed Ivan with the slow burning fire of his resentment and anger. 

 

“Why do you look at me like that?” Ivan demanded quietly, his voice climbing with his frustrated. “I have apologized more then once for the night at the bar and I have been more then cordial with you! Why do you still fight me?”

 

“You don’t know the first thing about being a friend!” Alfred finally exploded, shifting from the counter to his feet. “If that truly is what you want, then you’re fucking it all up! You think you can just demand someone to do something and that’s not how friendships work!”

 

Ivan’s frustration seemed to peak. “Then teach me!”

 

“Teach you?!” Alfred mocked. “I shouldn’t have to teach you not to stalk people or spy on them! Friends don’t threaten one another or break into people’s houses and they never ever lie to each other!”

 

“I have never lied to you!” Ivan defended, his voice louder then Alfred had ever heard it.

 

“Ok well you say you don’t have anything to do with your family’s business, but I saw that gun you were carrying under your jacket!” He shouted, pointing an accusatory finger.

 

“And you have a gun under your pillow. I keep it for last resort, self defense only.”

 

“What about the creepy goon that drives the black car all over the place?”

 

“That is my driver, nothing more.”

 

“And that Asian guy you fought with at the bar? That looked like business to me!”

 

“He was an old acquaintance from years ago! I turned down the job he offered me! You saw how that ended!”

 

Alfred groaned, taking off his glasses to rub at his face in exhaustion. “Why am I even arguing with you!”

 

“Because you feel a connection, same as me! We are not so different, Alfred.” No longer yelling Ivan’s voice was almost back to its normal soft timbre. “Maybe you are right, I do not know how to be a good friend. But I have never had any examples. I will...do better.”

 

“You know what? This is crazy. I’m too tired to deal with this shit.” Alfred muttered behind his hands, before pointing toward the door. “Just go...alright? Please. I can’t think straight anymore.”

 

The Russian looked torn, not wanting to give up the fight just yet. He stared for a moment, but seemed to settle and nod his head in understanding.

 

Without a word he moved away. 

 

Alfred watched as Ivan went to collect his things, taking his time as he always seemed to do. Meticulous in everything he did. 

 

He pulled his scarf from the back of the chair, wrapping it twice, before pressing a hand to his neck to check its placement.

 

Grabbing his coat, he snapped out the wrinkles a few times before slipping his arms inside and adjusting the collar to his liking.

 

His gloves came next, slipping both hands inside flexing his fingers until the fit was just right.

 

Alfred bit his tongue.

 

When Ivan finally made for the entry way, he paused. 

 

With his back turned he said. “I will be going back home to Russia soon. I do not know when I when I will be returning, but think of what I said...” And with that he left.

 

Alfred waited a moment before going to slip the lock back in place. Leaning against the door he pressed a hand to his chest.

 

What the fuck is happening here...

 

Holding his hand up in front of him, he could see the tremble still lingering. He closed it in to a fist. 

 

This is what happens when you don’t get enough sleep. You start losing your mind. Alfred concluded he just needed to go to bed. He’d be able to think clearer in the morning. 

 

Oh autopilot, Alfred turned out the kitchen light, holding his arm where a bruise was beginning to form.

 

“Tony don’t be mad at me...”. He didn’t see his cat anywhere and figured Tony probably ran off to hide somewhere safe.

 

Shuffling down the darkened hallway he kicked something across the floor.

 

“Ah!” He cried, scaring himself before he realized what it was. “Stupid book...” 

 

He pick up the offending object Ivan left behind. Turning it over, he read the title and scoffed.

 

“American pop culture!  
How to speak like an American Volume 1.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry if it’s no good or if there’s mistakes. I just had to stop going through and changing every little thing. I start to hate what I’m writing after a while! Reading it over and over. I don’t know if I’m the only one that does this. Anyway, I’m happy to move on finally and work on the next chapter! As always thanks for taking the time to read! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own it

Ivan jerked awake. 

 

Jostled from sleep unfairly by uneven terrain. 

 

He was disoriented as the warm bubble of blissful dormancy burst, and was replaced with a sense of...emptiness. 

 

It was a reoccurring dream of a ‘come get me’ smile and eyes as blue as a clear Texas sky. They slowly vanished as he tried to recapture the fantasy that seemed so vivid. 

 

Alfred...

 

But as always the more his mind chased the further the American got, until he was completely gone. 

 

Sitting up straight he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small strip of paper. Alfred’s phone number was carefully transcribed across it. 

 

He took it without permission. But only because he feared, after all his hard work, their new budding friendship might wilt and die now that he was so far away. That just wouldn’t do. 

 

Which reminded him. He extracted his old flip phone and ran his thumb over the chipped edges and scratched plastic. 

 

“Toris what do you know about the smart phones?”

 

His driver adjusted the rear view mirror until his sharp teal colored gaze appeared in the reflection. “Only what your sister has shown me. I do not use it to it’s full potential though. Or so she complains...why?”

 

Ivan looked out the foggy window and could now see the soft illumination of his porch light in the distance. 

 

“I want one.” He concluded, before dumping his old phone on the seat next to him. “Tomorrow you can pick one for me. And it has to be the one with the apple on the back. The one with the games and the text messaging.”

 

Ivan thought of the device Alfred was holding that day in the coffee shop. How flashy and modern it was. He didn’t want to be at a disadvantage in any of their endeavors. 

 

He could sense the confusion emitting from his driver but he didn’t pry.

 

Touching a knuckle to his lips the Russian muffled a soft titter. How exciting this was. 

 

The look on Alfred’s face before he left was telling. 

 

Confusion. Distress. Ivan was getting under his skin perhaps. Just as he hoped. 

 

He wanted to stay active in the boys thoughts. Like a slowly growing seed. Bury deep into his subconscious and make a permanent home there. 

 

During his long flight, Ivan had reflected on many things. Replayed all the events that took place in the America’s small living room over and over. 

 

His hand curled as he remembered the feel of Alfred’s warm skin held firmly in his grip. He had been surprised by just how warm. So much warmer then his own. It was almost scalding. 

 

And the strength he felt as Alfred fought. Even now almost a day later he felt his body tingle from exhilaration. It was enough to get Ivan’s blood running hot. 

 

The thrill of seeing the smallest spark of fear and uncertainty beneath the depths of the boys prideful resistance had the perverse side of him stirring. His need to be predominant called for him to always get the upper hand by any means necessary. 

 

In all aspects of his life he demanded orderliness and obedience. Alfred was the absolute opposite of this. Somehow it both pleased him and irritated him at the same time. Making it still hard for Ivan to draw a distinctive line between exasperation or pleasure when he thought of it. 

 

Maybe it was too fine of a line for him to discern. Never has he been so torn. 

 

He had been frustrated when Alfred again refused his attempt at calling truce. Things just didn’t go in the peaceful direction he had tried to steer it. That was just as well. He got his point across easier through violence anyway. 

 

But by the end of their fight Ivan had found himself in unfamiliar territory. Saying anything to win favor with him. He surprised himself with how far he stooped to achieve this. Promising whatever he could to gain his trust. To just get the younger man to stop resisting him and just give in. 

 

Ivan leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes for a moment. He wished to have stayed just a little longer. See how far he could have push this until Alfred complied. 

 

But business required him to return. He had responsibilities on hold that needed to be taken care of. Piles of paperwork awaited him, burning a hole on his desk. 

 

Building plans to be approved, documents to be signed, employees to be looked after. 

 

Ivan opened his eyes and suddenly felt weary. Old. 

 

His knee had started acting up again with the change of climate, and his back was aching from the long journey. A proper bed and a home cooked meal would set him right.

 

When they slowed to a stop, Ivan heard leather creak as Toris twisted around in his seat to address him. 

 

“Is there something wrong?” The smaller man inquired, rolling a tooth pick in his mouth. 

 

“Wrong? Not at all.” Ivan said, replaced the note paper back in his coat.

 

Toris watched him in silent scrutiny before turning back around. It seemed there was something on his mind as well. 

 

Ivan could read the Lithuanian native better then anyone. After twenty years of being under his servitude, Toris was like an open book to him. 

 

Settling back into his seat, Ivan fished into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Speak your mind or forever hold your peace.”

 

Toris half turned toward him again, tucking shoulder length brown hair behind his ear, debating something. “You have been acting strangely these past weeks. Natalia is worried about you.”

 

“She is always worried about me.” He muttered around a cigarette, the stick bobbing between his lips.

 

“I have concerns as well.” 

 

“Oh?” Ivan smiled, patting his coat for a light. 

 

“I was surprised when you sent us home and stayed behind by yourself.”

 

He fired up to the end of his cigarette, taking a quick drag before plucking it out of his mouth. “I told you I had business to attend to.”

 

“Business with that Yanky from Texas? The one you had me follow.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Toris became visibly agitated, gripping the steering wheel tight. “It may not be my place. But be careful with the American enchantment. Westerners can be trouble.”

 

“He is trouble there is no doubt.” Ivan agreed, smiling to himself. “But know that Al’fred is not your average Yanky.”

 

Toris looked like he wanted to argue. So Ivan clarified. “He is the closest thing to my equal I have ever met. He has caught my interest and I enjoy his company.”

 

This statement seemed to stump the other man. “I have never heard you speak of someone so fondly outside of your own family. Especially someone you barely know...”

 

Ivan watched the rolled up paper burn slowly, accumulating into a long glowing ember as he pictured Alfred’s beautiful face. 

 

“He makes me feel...” He began slowly, trying to but failing to formulate what that was exactly. So he left it at that. 

 

“You are infatuated with the boy that much is obvious.” Toris mused, taking the tooth pick out of his mouth. 

 

Ivan hummed a non-committal response. 

 

Toris took a moment to collect his thoughts. Thinking hard about what he was going to say next. 

 

“It is-ok.” The Lithuanian began again. “To act on your impulses. It is not healthy to keep things like this bottled up. Your father is no longer around to shame you. It is ok to live your life the way you want. Perhaps if you just sleep with the boy you can settle your mind.”

 

Ivan subconsciously touched the bandage around his throat, turning slightly inward. 

 

To act on his impulses? 

 

He had done that once before. Acted upon his darkest most secret desires. 

 

He’d only gotten a small taste, just enough to make him mad with yearning...a blip of happiness in an otherwise painful, lonely existence. But it had cost him dearly. 

 

“I...want Al’fred-” He began aloud, formulating his thoughts. “- to completely give himself over to me.”

 

Toris’s brows creased. “I do not understand...”

 

“That is because the answer is not a simple fuck; something to alleviate then be done with. That is not enough, not even close. I will have all of Alfred before long and I will not stop until he is all mine...”

 

The look on his face must have made Toris uncomfortable because he faced forward again. “You will scare him away with talk like that. Americans do not respond well to that type of behavior.”

 

“You have not seen the look in his eyes when he challenges me. He does not fear me.”

 

“If nothing else, getting involved with an outsider could put him in danger.” Toris tried to reason. “Your enemies will target him there is no doubt.” 

 

“I have thought about this.” He admitted, tugging on the end of his coat sleeve before peering up into Toris’s eyes. “And if anyone is so stupid as to get involved with my personal business then they are probably not intelligent enough to continue living.”

 

“That could prove to be more hassle then it is worth...”

 

“Hm.”

 

“I do not think he will thank you for putting a target on his back.”

 

“Then perhaps it is in his best interest if he stays close.” Ivan replied with a smile. “Besides, I have never claimed to be altruistic.”

 

There was a ghost of a smile on Toris’s lips. “Well that certainly is true.”

 

Feeling as if he could no longer hide the pain in his leg and exhaustion in his voice, Ivan grabbed his door handle. 

 

“I think that is enough talk for now.” He said, opening his door. “We can discuss this later, it is late.”

 

“Yes sir.” Toris agreed, seeming far more at ease now. 

 

The grand pillars and high archway of his large house stood proudly in the cars headlights. 

 

He bought this country manor with his inheritance many years ago. He was still working hard to make it a home.

 

“Leave the luggage for tomorrow.” Ivan ordered as his driver went for the trunk. “It can wait until morning.

 

They both turned at the sound of the front door creaking open. Someone beyond the lights reach moved quickly and quietly. 

 

Natalia appeared in the beams, a vision of white launching from the top steps of his porch, landing bare foot on the icy ground.

 

Ivan nearly swallowed his cigarette as she collided with him, wrapping her strong arms around his waist. 

 

He felt a flare of temper as he flicked the burning bud into the snow. Not only was she barefoot but she was wearing next to nothing in her thin, pale night gown. 

 

“Sestra, what have I told you about clinging to me?” He scolded, trying to pry her grip loose, but she refused to relent. “Get back inside before you catch death.“ 

 

“He is in the house!” She cried into his thick sweater. 

 

Going still he demanded, “Who?” 

 

“Elena told him to leave-“

 

“Who is in the house Natalia?” He pressed, gripping her arms to look at her face, resisting the urge to shake her. 

 

“Viktor!” She cried.

 

He did his best to hide the shock as Toris jerked forward in his peripherals, hand going to his side where Ivan knew he hid a gun. A small shake of his head was enough to stand him down.

 

“How long has he been here?”

 

“He came stumbling in about an hour ago. He woke the whole house up and demanded the cooks make him something to eat...” She explained and behind her in the entryway he could see his house keepers and staff peering out, dressed for bed. 

 

“Elena told me to lock myself in my room.” She continued, now shaking like a leaf. “She sent him to your study to wait..”

 

Ivan looked up in the direction of his office window as the timer on his head lights expired. Both beams shut off and he saw a shadow looking down at them. 

 

This was unacceptable. What the hell was he doing here? 

 

From the light of his porch lamp Ivan watched Toris drop his coat onto Natalia’s shoulders, sacrificing the precious outer layer. 

 

“My dear, please, we should get you out of the cold..” Toris advised, always keeping Ivan’s little sisters best interest at the top of his priorities. 

 

“Yes, please take Natalia to her room.”

 

She hated it when they treated her like this but she seemed to distraught to throw a tantrum right then. This was a serious situation. 

 

Toris didn’t bother wasting another second out in the cold and swept her up onto his arms quickly. Her feet already turning a dark pink color. 

 

“Do not worry.” Ivan assured, reaching out to pat her cheek. “I will send him away.” 

 

“Please visit me after he leaves I wont be able to sleep until I know he is out of the house.” She said twisting a fist in Toris’s shirt. Ivan felt his insides clench again. 

 

“I will find you once he is gone.” He promised. And looking to his driver he said. “Toris will guard your door until I’am done.”

 

“I will stay there all night if I have to.” He promised bowing his head, before taking his sister away. 

 

Ivan didn’t trust anyone to protect his family as good as himself. But Toris, he trusted him to protect her with his life.

 

He’d done it countless times before. 

 

Looking back up at his office window, the shadow had disappeared and Ivan shifted gears. Rustling his coat free of freshly fallen snow he walked inside, preparing for a confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uugh I did it. Finally finished editing this thing. Thanks for stopping by to read! I’ll have the next chapter up soon. I’m shooting for in the next week or so! :D


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